Timelines
by Somme
Summary: As Max struggles to deal with the consequences of her decision at the end of Episode 5, she finds herself in another timeline after she falls asleep in her dorm room. Timelines is a sequel to Season One that incorporates both endings to that season. Pricefield with some Chasefield. Heavy focus on plot and character development with a side of fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _ **Friday, October 11, 2013**_

 _Where do I even begin? This diary was supposed to record that last, insane week, but I undid everything. Now, I do not even recognize the last few pages before this one._

 _I want to write down everything again and somehow save that last week that never was. I want to save everyone, but life is … so not fair. I want the one person that I can never have._

 _Was this all a terrible, sweet dream? Did it really happen if I am the only one who has memories of it? I have to believe it did or her sacrifice meant nothing. She… would have just died on a shitty bathroom floor in a school that rejected her, under the protection of a man who abused her, and without hearing from a so-called best friend who abandoned her like everyone else in her life. No, I HAVE to believe that this was all worth it._

 _That decision was so fucked up, just like that Star Trek episode in which Kirk has to let the woman he loves die so that the Nazis don't win the war (I know I technically already wrote about that, but that diary no longer exists so I am allowed to repeat myself). I replay and rewind those last few moments together in my mind, again and again. I can't believe I am still asking myself this, with all of the lives at stake, but I still wonder if I made the right decision. She was so heroic, prepared to die for a corrupted town that could care less. She loved (!) me so much that she was willing to give me a choice, even if it meant her life. I don't feel stupid calling her my hero anymore. She totally earned it like a boss. She convinced me to do the right thing when I was ready to let my town burn. It would have been so easy to just sit back with her and do nothing. I just wish I had the balls to tell her how I feel about her before leaving. I guess our kiss goodbye will have to do._

 _I don't know if I can ever forget those horrifying moments back in the bathroom. I can't even look as I want to reach out, stop everything, and take that bullet. I know I can't. Screwing with time has just caused death and destruction. I can't ever risk using my powers again. If only I had intervened the first time I went into that bathroom, I could have saved her and this town. Why didn't I recognize my best friend that first time? If I had, would I have actually done something instead of hiding in the corner like a coward? I was so taken by grief that I couldn't even call out to her as she bled out on that tiled floor. She died abandoned. Some Everyday Hero that I am._

 _Although no one will ever know what she did, her sacrifice was worth it. I suppose it was our fate to be in that bathroom together but unable to stop that bullet. The universe (fuck you very much, btw) seemed happy as there were calm skies and no beached whales once I woke up from my photo slumber. How could her life mean so much to the world? I know she was everything to me, so maybe this is really just a sick punishment for being cursed with these powers._

 _The funeral will forever be seared on my mind as a brand marking this awful day. The only people other than me that were really upset over her death were Joyce and David. David kept it together for Joyce, but I knew that he was breaking down inside. From my time in the Dark Room, I knew exactly how much Chloe's death affected him. Some Blackwell classmates attended as well, but none really cared for her. I discovered through my text history that I had asked most of them to attend. I could not hear the pastor's words. I knew they would not be able to bring sense to this senseless death. The only one who knows what she did for everyone had to remain silent._

 _I saw that damned blue butterfly there, dancing on her coffin. Then I remembered that photograph, still tucked away in my bag. I could always go back if this became too much. That thought brought a smile to my face, which shamed me as this was the last time I should ever do that. Maybe I should tear that photo in half to remove the temptation to go back. I just can't bring myself to do that as it would feel like killing her all over again._

 _I now sit in my room, surrounded by pictures of her. The other me must have put all of these up. Part of me wants to tear them down so that I don't have to be constantly reminded of her. But I'm not fooling anyone. I can't stop thinking about her no matter what I do. No one would understand why I am so obsessed with her. To them, I did not know her at all. To them, I am simply traumatized from being in that bathroom at the wrong time. That she was the one who died did not really matter._

 _How do I go on from here? I can't tell anyone what happened, not even Warren. Sure, it's tempting to tell him as he took it so well before. But he had a massive tornado, freak snowfall, irregular eclipse, double moon, and piles of dead wildlife to convince him before. I could tell him, see what his reaction is, and then rewind if he doesn't buy it. But that would be way too dangerous. My powers nearly destroyed this town the first time. I can't ever risk using them again. I have to carry this burden myself. The only one who could possibly share it was buried today._

 _I feel so alone, so abandoned by the universe. I wouldn't wish this feeling on anyone. Is this how she felt after I left her for Seattle? Some karma for me, I guess._

I wrote that last line and looked at the ink drying on the page. For some reason, I remember Jefferson's line: "There's nothing more innocent than a teenager's diary." Well, I think that's gone now from these pages, along with the week that never was.

As I sit back in my uncomfortable desk chair to collect my thoughts, a quiet, tentative knock hits the door.

"Max?" A kind, reassuring voice comes from the hallway. "Do you need anything? I brought some tea if you are up to it."

I sigh, not wanting the warmth of company today when my best friend would only feel, if she could, the coldness of her coffin. Still, I think to myself, I better not seem too distraught, and Kate is only trying to help.

I open the door to Kate's gentle face, full of concern. She is still wearing her black dress and has a cross necklace draped around her neck. "Thanks, Kate. I do miss our tea sessions."

"What do you mean?" Kate's worry deepened on her face, now causing lines on her forehead. "We haven't missed it this week."

I instinctively raise my right hand and then drop it immediately. Shit. I need to be more careful. Of course, we did not miss anything in this timeline. Kate never went to the roof on Tuesday. With Jefferson's arrest and the reveal of the Dark Room, Victoria and her bitch crew backed off of the Vortex Club video. Kate was able to go to the police and actually get someone to listen to her.

"Oh, that's right. Sorry, it's been a long day." I let Kate into my room and quickly close the door. Kate takes a quick look around, trying not to seem too nosy, unlike the room's owner. Her eyes rest on the pictures of my best friend posted along my wall. She then turns away before she thinks I notice.

"That's my . . . Chloe Price Photo Memorial Wall. It's much better than that crap I had up there before." I stammer at my best friend's name as saying it aloud brings painful and euphoric memories, which is really all I have left of her.

"Oh Max, you are so talented." Kate's words remind me of Monday: _And Max ... has a gift_. Memories of the Dark Room invade my thoughts. I resist the urge to shudder as I can't give Kate more reason for worry.

Kate doesn't seem to notice my inner struggle and continues. "You shouldn't say such things about your work. Still, your wall is nice. Before this week, I didn't realize she meant so much to you." Kate looks into my eyes, trying to reassure me.

"Thanks. She does. We were best friends since we were kids, but I moved away to Seattle. I never called or texted afterwards. For five years, I was dead to her. Then, when I finally moved back to Arcadia Bay, I did not even let her know. I am a shitty friend." I did nothing when she needed me the most.

"You took her passing the hardest of anyone, even Joyce." Kate pours a cup of tea for both of us. She then gives me a gentle hug and hands me a cup, still warm. She must have gone all the way to the cafeteria to prepare the tea. Others may have snuck in something to their room, but not Kate Marsh. "You got people together for her funeral. You have been over to see Joyce and David every day this week. Yes, you did not keep in touch. Sometimes, people drift apart. But you clearly care for her. That makes you a good friend, not a … not good one."

I take a sip of tea, and the hot liquid calms me. Kate sure knows what tea to buy, though I'm still mostly clueless. Is this earl grey, hot? "I know what you are saying makes sense, but I don't believe it. Thanks for coming over, Kate. It is nice to know that you care, especially today."

Kate sits on my couch and sips from her own cup. Kate puts on a smile that is warmer than the tea in my hands. "Don't worry about it, Max. I know you would do the same for me." Kate does not realize how true those words are. At least Kate never has to go through being on that roof, desperate to sleep forever. There are some things to be thankful for.

I nod and continue to sip my tea. This really is helping, though I wish it didn't. I want to wallow in this feeling for a while.

"You may not want to hear this, but she's in a bett…." Kate begins, testing the waters. I know that she is just trying to comfort me, but I am not in the mood for this. Kate really doesn't shove her religion on others, so I am surprised that she would say this.

"No, I don't," I immediately respond. "I know you believe she is in a better place, but I don't. She's buried in that cemetery. That's not a better place. She should be at home, yelling at her step douche and arguing with her mom. She should be roaming around American Rust, her home away from hell. She should be getting into all kinds of shenanigans. Not trapped in a coffin buried in a town she desperately wanted to leave."

Kate begins to tear up after my outburst. As if on cue, the sun begins to disappear from my window, darkening the room. "I'm … sorry, Max. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Fuck. This is the last thing I wanted. If only I could rewind those last few seconds. It would be so much easier. "I know, Kate. I'm sorry. I think I'm still angry."

Kate wipes a tear from her eye. "It's okay. I am angry at Nathan too." If only she knew that I was more angry with myself for failing my best friend.

"I can never forgive him, but I see where he was coming from. Deep down, I know he didn't want to hurt anyone." I finish my tea and place the empty cup on my nightstand. I can relate to the empty cup, once full of something wonderful, now sad and alone. Will I ever feel that happiness I had with Chloe again? It feels like that was also permanently sacrificed with her.

"I'm surprised to hear that. I want to believe I could feel the same way about someone who did something terrible to me like Nathan did to you." Kate also finishes her tea but keeps her cup in her hands. I want to tell Kate that she could forgive Victoria even after she nearly drove her to suicide, but I swallow the words before they could leave my throat.

"It's really his father that is to blame. I heard that his father refused to give Nathan the care that he so needed. Thanks for the tea, Kate. I think I should try to get some sleep soon." The sun has finished its disappearing act, and I am very tired. How long has it been since I have gotten a decent night's sleep? I turn on the power to the lights along my memorial wall, draping the room in a soft light. The pictures of Chloe are illuminated, giving them a spiritual feel.

Kate picks up my cup off of the nightstand, places it on her tray alongside hers, and begins to leave. Kate looks less concerned for me than before she came over. Good. Maybe I can fake being okay with all of this. Kate looks into my eyes intently. "I am here for you, Max, whenever you need me. You can talk to me about anything." I wish that was actually true. I can't talk to her or anyone else about that last week.

I open the door, letting Kate back into the hallway. I can see Victoria's door ajar, and I can hear some electronica coming from her room that I cannot recognize though it does sound like something that would be played at a Vortex Club party. It now dawns on me that Victoria must have missed going to San Francisco to be at the funeral. I tore my contest entry before taking that butterfly photo, and Victoria was going to win the contest otherwise. Why would she miss going to the Zeitgeist? She wanted to win more than anything, and she could care less about my best friend.

Victoria is near the top of the list of people I least want to see today, but I can't help myself. I need to know why she went to the funeral. "Thanks for coming over, Kate. I really appreciate your kindness. I think I should take your lead and thank Victoria for coming to the funeral."

Kate looks surprised but does not try to dissuade me from talking to Victoria. Perhaps she thinks that I shouldn't be alone too much today, even if it is with someone I loathe.

"You're welcome, Max. Again, let me know if you need me." With that, Kate makes her way to her room, carefully holding the tea tray as she opens her door.

I gingerly approach Victoria's door and see that she is inside, at her laptop. I could back away now. Kate and Victoria do not speak to each other, so I can put this off. Am I really ready for this?

As I question myself over whether to knock, Victoria, without turning around, states, "If you want to come in, come in. At least, don't stand next to my door without knocking like some creeper." Even over her music, Victoria could hear me talk to Kate. Victoria, unlike Kate, has changed out of her funeral attire. She is wearing a black cardigan with a yellow blouse and skinny jeans. A string of pearls graces her thin neck, clearly visible under her short blonde hair. Who wears pearls while hanging out in their room?

Things were so much easier when I could simply rewind all of my conservations. I could talk to everyone confidently, knowing full well what they would say and how they would react to whatever I said. This was especially true with people like Victoria. Even though I only had these powers for a week, I have a hard time remembering how I spoke to her without relying upon this ultimate conversation cheat code.

I take the invitation and enter her room, sitting on her couch. My thoughts turn to all of those times I went into this room last week when Victoria was gone. It feels so awkward to be in here with Victoria present. What does that say about me? "Sorry. I wasn't sure if I should disturb you."

Victoria pauses her music and turns around. A grimace appears on her face. "Whatever. What do you want, Max?"

"I just wanted to thank you for coming to the funeral today. I know that you missed the Everyday Heroes exhibit at the Zeitgeist to be here. That could not have been easy, given how much you wanted to win." I awkwardly fidget on the couch, unsure of my posture. How does Victoria intimidate me after that last week? I faced far worse in the Dark Room, and I know that deep down (maybe really deep), Victoria is a good person. It's probably that I feel like the old me at the start of the week, completely lacking superpowers.

Victoria notices my anxiety but does not call me out. "I did want to go to San Francisco. I did want to win. I knew I would because everyone else's photos are shit, and I am clearly the only one with talent that entered the contest. Though I am totally not sad to miss spending so much time with that drunk Wells, being there with other artists of my standing would have been amazing. I just couldn't do that to Nathan."

"What do you mean?" I reply, stunned. I read in my diary that Nathan confessed about Jefferson and the Dark Room to the police after he shot Chloe.

Victoria sighs, clearly annoyed at having to explain herself. "Look, Nathan asked me to go to the funeral for him. He is obviously upset, and he did not mean to hurt anyone. That bitch got what was coming to her, if you ask me. Trying to blackmail someone with Nathan's issues? Please."

"What the fuck? Her funeral was today. You could at least have the decency to wait 24 hours before hating her." I raise my voice as I can't stand to hear anyone say those things about her. Especially not today. Clearly, the Victoria I met at the End of the World Party did not exist yet in this timeline.

"Calm yourself, Maxine." Hearing her call me Maxine does the opposite of calming me. Victoria seems pleased that she is able to get under my skin. "I'm so over pretending that the dead were better people than they actually were. Remember Rachel? No one had a bad thing to say because we all knew, deep down, that something terrible happened to her. Yes, Nathan shouldn't have had a gun, but he told me that he needed it because he was afraid for his life. You know Mr. Jefferson coerced Nathan to do some horrible things and used him for his money. I don't blame Nathan for wanting some protection against that asshole. I don't forgive Nathan for everything that he has done, but he has problems and has been shat upon his entire life. Nathan is going to get what's coming to him, but your so-called friend shouldn't have provoked him so much." Victoria seems to be as upset as I am. Does she blame Chloe for Nathan's arrest?

"You have no idea what Chloe has gone through, what she has done for this town. All Nathan did was abuse and kill a bunch of helpless women. I can't believe you are defending him." I actually wish I could be a big enough person to forgive Nathan. I don't know if I'll ever be able to wish Nathan well, but I admire Victoria for being so loyal to Nathan. Maybe this is what Courtney and Taylor see in her? Though I wonder if Victoria would be so forgiving if she knew that she was the next victim. Unfortunately, I don't think Jefferson and Nathan got around to making her binder in this timeline.

"Nathan is like a brother to me. I can relate to some of what is has gone through. And Chloe? That punk has done nothing of value her entire life. I don't understand why you are so upset. You obviously don't give two shits about her as you never hung out with her even though you have been in town for a month. It's only now, after she died right in front of you, that you think you care. You probably didn't even recognize her in that bathroom. You are just feeling guilty for not caring."

I stare at Victoria, wondering if what she is saying rings true. No, what Chloe and I went through during the week that never was brought us closer. I do care for her, though there is no way I can tell Victoria this.

"Maybe you are right," I sigh. It's probably for the best if I pretend to agree. How can I explain to anyone why Chloe means so much to me? As far as anyone knows, I left her for five years without a word, then came back and ignored her some more. WIthout that week, there's no way to explain to anyone why I love her. I feel a tear sliding down my face.

"I failed her, Victoria. Fuck, I even failed Nathan. I should have stopped him." I start sobbing. I feel so weak for doing this in front of her, but it seems like the hopelessness that I was trying to suppress all day finally overwhelmed me. "I'm . . . sorry . . . Victoria," I let out through the tears. "You . . . don't need . . . this."

Perhaps it was my admission that I had failed Nathan, but Victoria moves next to me and holds me. "Look Max, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything there. You don't have superpowers. You don't have a TARDIS. Nathan had a gun and was right next to Chloe. If you had surprised him, he would have shot you. It's not your fault." Victoria's words and embrace soothe me. This is the side of her that I remember.

Victoria's Doctor Who reference reminds me of the action figure I found in her room that one evening, marking her as a closet nerd. I think she said that to put me at ease. "You are a good friend, Victoria. You still care for Nathan even after everything that he has done. I wish we could get over whatever bullshit is between us and get there too. We don't have to be enemies."

Victoria smirks. "Maybe we can, one day. But, let's not make coming into my room and crying a thing, okay? If everyone knew that gets me to cuddle, it would ruin my reputation as a cold-hearted bitch."

Taking that as an invitation to leave, I get up and move to the door. "I don't like what you said about Chloe, but thanks for not bullshitting me."

Victoria's smirk reemerges. "I'm not afraid to say what I think. Try to get some sleep, Max. I'll go back to hating your waif hipster ass tomorrow."

I leave the room, make the short walk back to mine, and enter, closing the door behind me. I am exhausted. Technically, I haven't slept since I was with alternate Chloe. I look at my new memorial. I think I can do this for her. She would want me to keep calm and carry on. I just don't know if my life will have that same happiness that I felt when I was with her. I think that is also buried in that coffin.

I change into my pajamas and get into bed. I am exhausted, so maybe sleep will come and my thoughts will go. I put my head on the pillow and close my eyes. My thoughts are filled with Chloe and whether I can live without her. Exhaustion soon sets in, and I succumb.

* * *

It seems like I immediately awaken, my eyes still closed. Somehow, I feel warm and protected, like I am meant to be in this spot. I then realize that I am being held. I quickly open my eyes, wondering if somehow Victoria snuck in my room.

I then notice that I am not in my room, but in some dingy motel room. I begin to freak out until I look down and see blue fingernails and a unmistakable tattoo with a skull and butterflies. I get out of the woman's embrace and turn around to see my best friend, beginning to awaken. "Chloe?!"

 **A/N:**

Well, this game has also gotten me into the strange world of fan fiction. I am fairly new to the game as it beat me in early June. For whatever reason, many of the characters in the game, especially the central characters of Max and Chloe, deeply resonated with me, and I have this desire to see their story continue. Unfortunately, our overlords at DONTNOD have stated that a season two, which I would say is likely to happen given the overwhelming success of season one, would feature new characters as they feel Max and Chloe's story is done. This fan fiction is partly an attempt to argue otherwise. As the last word of the chapter reveals, this is more than just a sacrifice Chloe story, and I'm going to try to incorporate both endings. I'm going to have to make some concessions to do this, like starting with the bay ending.

Thanks to all of the other fan fiction authors as well as the rest of the LiS community. It's through your work that I have been inspired to write this piece as well as get through the PLiSD (well, as much as you can "get through" it anyway). I wanted to do something to contribute to the community, and given that I can't draw, am not into cosplay, and otherwise don't have artistic talents, I decided to get into writing. I'm aiming for a long series of at least 100k words as my favorite fan fictions are those that let me live in Arcadia Bay (or really wherever Max and Chloe are) for a while. I am up to 40k words for the rough drafts of Chapters 1-7, so I will probably easily surpass that goal.

I published this along with the first few chapters for reasons that will become apparent if you decide to read on, though I guess the title is a good clue.

One of the things that I love about the game is how complex the final decision is. During my first playthrough, I quickly chose the sacrifice Chloe option as that choice seemed like it was the only morally acceptable one to make. However, after obsessively reading the game's subreddit and other discussion on the interwebs, I have discovered some very convincing reasons to choose bae over bay. Though this story begins, like my first playthrough, with the bay ending, I hope to explore that complex decision.

This story will partly be a commentary on the game, and I will use these author notes to further that discussion. I'm going to base the story on my interpretation of the events of the game, and the author notes will explain those connections. This game is really thought provoking as there are plenty of unanswered questions that can reasonably be answered in multiple ways. I hope this story can provoke such discussion.

I think it's reasonable to assume that regardless of the slight smile at the end of the bay ending, Max is not going to be fine with how things turned out. This is not the type of decision that one simply forgets and moves on from. The most significant lines in "Spanish Sahara" point to thoughts of Chloe tormenting Max as time goes on. The song progresses from:

I am the fury in your head

I am the fury in your bed

I am the ghost in the back of your head

to:

Choir of furies in your head

Choir of furies in your bed

I am the ghost in the back of your head

This intensification implies that Chloe's death will get harder, not easier, with the passage of time, and the lines themselves show that the death will be with Max forever. Max didn't just sacrifice Chloe. She also sacrificed parts of others who Chloe touched.

Another reason why Max may doubt her decision to sacrifice Chloe is that she does not destroy the butterfly photo, unlike in the bae ending in which she emphatically tears the photo. If Max was sure that sacrificing Chloe was the only decision that could be made, she would have torn up that photo as soon as she went back to the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Chloe?!" I blink a couple times, wondering if I am seeing things. Nope, she's still here.

Chloe takes a long look at me, then leans in and gives me a passionate kiss, which I eagerly return. The kiss reminded me of the last time I saw her next to the lighthouse and the goodbye kiss that we shared. Instead of being bittersweet like that other one, this time it seemed to be full of love without the acidic knowledge that it would be our last. "Welcome back, Super Max. I was hoping that you would come back to me. Max Prime is definitely better than that poser."

"Oh my god, it's you! You are alive! How is this possible?" I burst into tears and Chloe holds me. I just went to her funeral, and now she's here with me in some motel room? I'm so glad to see her again, but none of this makes any sense.

"I'm here, Max," Chloe soothingly whispers in my ear. "Though you sound high. Three kisses and you freak out on me? Of course I'm alive after you used your powers."

"What are you talking about? I went back using that butterfly photo and let you die. I just went to your funeral yesterday. How am I here? Where is here anyway? I just went to bed in my dorm room." I am so confused, but Chloe looks as sure of herself as ever.

I look around at our crappy accommodations. The bed creaks loudly whenever we move, and I can swear I can see some large stains on the mattress underneath the cheap white sheets. Clearly, ownership doesn't care about appearances. The old, yellowing wallpaper is coming off the wall in some spots, and a roach just moved across the room to lie under a pile of my clothes on the floor. The carpet looks like it came from the '70s and hasn't been steam cleaned in a decade. Still, it does have a Chloe-like feel to it. Abused and mistreated, but still kicking and not giving a fuck.

My beautiful best friend tries to explain. "Well, yes, you did use that photo. I mean, it didn't look like you did, but you were hella different afterwards. Other Max had no memories of our last week together aside from that brief time that we were together Wednesday evening and Thursday morning as well as after the party. She said that she couldn't use the photo, so we stayed at the lighthouse and saw the bay get ripped apart."

Before continuing, Chloe suddenly stops and thinks, only now processing what I had just said. "What do you mean you just went to sleep in your dorm room? You didn't just use your photo power to save me in the bathroom? I was hoping that you would change your mind and come back to me. I was hoping that my plan didn't work and you would rather live in this timeline with me."

Chloe is in her pajamas, and I'm wearing an oversized punk t-shirt, which is probably because the shirt belongs to my much taller best friend. I imagine Chloe had some spare clothes in her truck in case she needed to make a quick escape from town.

I lean into the adorable Miss Price, moving myself as close to her as possible. I don't know how long this dream will last, but I need to take advantage while I can. I want to bask in her presence. "I'm sorry, I guess, but it did work. The town is saved. It was a terrible price to pay… uh, no pun intended… but it worked. I woke up on Friday next to the lighthouse and was dressed for your funeral. The skies were clear and the beaches were not littered with dead whales. You did it, Chloe. You saved Arcadia Bay and all of those people."

Chloe eagerly reaches for her phone and checks it. I look over, unable to contain my curiosity. I really am nosy, but Chloe never seems to mind much. She still has my Facebook profile photo as her wallpaper. As a hipster photographer, I need to get her a better picture. Chloe quickly checks the news and sees that the town is still destroyed.

Then, her mood visibly darkens. "But the town hasn't been saved. It's in ruins. All of those people are still dead. I still remember seeing mom, impaled by what is left of that fucking diner. I remember Frank, lying lifeless next to mom as he bled out. I remember other you breaking down over Warren's body and insisting that we cover him with a tarp. We spent yesterday looking for survivors. We did not find many. Blackwell was just demolished as if the tornado was targeting it. Your friends Dana and Brooke along with Ms. Grant and some other faculty and students made it as they were able to find a storm shelter. Many of the other Blackwell residents weren't so lucky. As we were leaving town, I thought you had come back to me. You were looking at Warren like it was the first time that you had seen him dead, so I stopped the truck and looked over. But it was still Other Max."

I hold Chloe as she fights back tears after recalling the events of yesterday, of a day that I remember so differently. I wish I could have been there for her. Instead, she had a shell of me who did not really understand what was going on. Chloe needed me there to comfort her instead of this version of me that had to be coddled. Her mom just fucking died, and other me was probably a mess as she just came into a world that was destroyed. Chloe couldn't mourn her own mother because I left her.

"I am a terrible daughter," Chloe suddenly states. "I should be fucking devastated that she is gone, but I can't help but feel overjoyed that you are here with me now. David feels what I should. I won't forget that phone call when I had to tell him she was gone. That was the hardest thing I have ever done. I should have been better, but I just blurted it out. David just broke down and said he needed some time alone. I should go see him in a day or two."

"But you are a great kisser," I say playfully, trying to lift her spirits. "Literally the best I've ever had."

"I'm probably the _only_ one you've had," Chloe says dismissively. That didn't work. Let's try something else.

"But seriously, you are so not a crappy daughter. You literally died alone and abandoned to save your mother and everyone else. I am so sorry that I was not there for you yesterday. It must have been awful. Going to your funeral was bad enough, but I can't imagine having to find my mother and all of those other people like that. Then having to tell your stepfather that your mother is dead. That is seriously fucked up."

My best friend lowers her eyes and turns her gaze away from me. "How … is mom? I'm afraid to ask, but I need to know that she … can live … without me."

I want to tell her that everything is fine, but my diary in the other timeline says otherwise. "She's not doing well. Your death just shattered her. I saw her everyday last week because I knew she needed me. I don't think I helped much, but David is really keeping her going. Though I know for a fact that he is also destroyed."

Chloe's frown deepens. "Fuck. I was just trying to protect her. I'm glad she has David. Thanks for seeing her."

"Thank other me in that timeline," I tell her. "She went over there that whole week. I don't know why. I mean, you were a stranger to her. Anyway, I'm sorry your Friday was so screwed up."

Chloe looks at me and shrugs. "Yesterday was fucked up, but at least I had some version of you. As shitty as all that was, I don't know what I would do if I had to go to your funeral, with your parents sobbing and with me knowing that I had let their daughter die. I mean, you couldn't tell anyone about what happened. Who would believe you? You were all alone. And now you are having to deal with the town being destroyed anyway. That is fucked up. As much as I hate losing mom, I don't know if I could handle losing you."

I am amazed by how empathetic Chloe can be. When she spooked me that evening we raided Blackwell, I thought she was so inconsiderate. These last few days have really changed her. "I want to know how I ended up here. I didn't use my powers to change anything because I am so scared that if I did, I would cause another tornado or something worse. This must be a dream. That's the only explanation. Though this feels much more real than a dream or even those tornado visions I had. I think that I feel guilty for not making the selfish choice and saving you. This must be my mind screwing with me."

Chloe then pinches me, really hard. I pull back from her, my side reeling in pain. "OWW! What the hell?"

Chloe flashes me a mischievous grin. "See? You are totally awake. I guess you will just have to make do being trapped in this timeline with a gorgeous lady in your bed." Chloe bats her eyes at me.

"I guess I am attractive. I mean, you seem to like me for whatever reason." Chloe pretends to be hurt as I dodge her self-serving compliment. I look into her blue eyes and sigh. "I suppose that's as good a way to start the talk about us. About what you and I mean to each other."

Chloe returns my gaze, peering into my eyes. "Yes, Max, I do like you. A lot. I didn't just say 'I will always love you' because I wasn't going to see you again. I meant it. I think I have always felt more for you than just being best friends, but I knew for sure while splish splashing at the pool. I got embarrassed and turned away when I saw you get undressed. When we were talking that night and the next morning, it seemed like we were feeling each other out with talk about boyfriends and what not. I then impulsively decided to dare you to kiss me. I didn't think you would do it. I mean, how could anyone like me? Especially you, of all people. The girl who I admire the most. I couldn't believe that I would be lucky enough for you to be into girls in the first place, much less me."

It seems like Chloe has been wanting to talk about this for awhile as she seems to be getting more relaxed as she goes on. "But then you did kiss me, and I began to wonder if it was something you did to shock me or was there something more. I immediately regretted pulling away, and I was tempted to ask you to rewind so I wouldn't. But I did not want to risk losing our first kiss, so I told you that you better not rewind that."

I smile at Chloe, inwardly smirking. "Don't worry. You always pulled away. I mean, I gave you several chances, but you didn't change. What an epic fail."

Chloe tries to suppress a laugh, but fails. "You perv. Though I would probably do the same if I had your powers."

I add a laugh to hers. "Probably? More like definitely. This is coming from the person who said she would bang people and then rewind so it's like it never happened when she first believed my powers. And I didn't actually rewind our first kiss. I wanted that to be our first as well. I didn't want to have memories that I couldn't share with you."

Chloe looks touched. "So, it meant something to you?"

"It did. At the time, I was pleased with how shocked you were, but part of me knew that it meant something more than just responding to a dare. Last week was so confusing. With all that was going on, I didn't have time to think about us. I don't think I really knew how I felt about you until after I woke up from my nightmare." I am also glad that I can finally talk about this with her. I thought that I fucked that up after leaving her at the lighthouse. I'm happy that I am getting a second chance. I'm not used to those without using my powers.

"Nightmare?" Chloe asks, confused. "You mean when you blacked out on the way to the lighthouse?"

I briefly describe my fucked up nightmare to her, explaining that it was obvious that it was my subconscious fears about my powers, being an artist, and especially my partner in crime and time. "When I saw you kiss Warren and be with Victoria, I felt something that I had never felt before. It was a physical pain in my heart. I was so hurt by you flirting with them. That's when I realized how deep my feelings for you ran. That we are more than just best friends. I love you now and forever, Chloe Elizabeth Price."

Chloe frowns, her face flooded with concern. That's not the reaction I was going for after confessing my love. Chloe then explains. "Wow. You had to deal with all of that right before making that decision? How could I do that to you? No wonder you were so set on keeping me alive."

I move to comfort her, holding her close. It's only been about a day apart from her, but I forgot how much I missed her smell-cigarette smoke mixed with whatever antiperspirant she uses. It doesn't sound appealing, but I revel in it because it's her. "You didn't know. You were right-only I could make that choice. After hearing your reasons for wanting to go back, the choice seemed so obvious. How could I pick you, even if I love you deeply, over all of those people? I really did not want to do it, but it felt like you were forcing my hand. If you were prepared to die to save everyone, shouldn't I be ready to sacrifice my own happiness? How could I be so selfish when you were being so heroic? So, I just made the decision that I had to make. I wish I would have thought about it more. Now that I have, I don't know if I would have made the same choice."

Chloe looks puzzled. "What do you mean, girlfriend?" Chloe has called me that before, but it was always meant as a friend. This time, it felt different.

My heart skipped a beat as I answered. "Girlfriend? I could get used to hearing that from you. Well, was it really morally right for me to let the past you die even though future you was willing? You are a different person now than at the beginning of this insane week. That Chloe was totally alone, without knowing that anyone cared about her. She was scared shitless when Nathan pulled that gun on her. She was not ready to die. Then there's the fact that I actively put you in harm's way instead of just standing by and let what was going to happen just happen."

"That choice was also a serious gamble," I add. It feels so good to finally be able to talk about what's been on my mind.

"Nothing is a risk for you," Chloe shrugs. "You can literally bend time and space to your will. Come to think of it, that makes your life sound boring. Good thing I keep things interesting."

"We are connected, Chloe. You said at the pool that I would never have discovered my powers without you. Maybe you were right. Maybe by allowing you to die, I don't have my powers anymore. What if your death wasn't the cause of the tornado? We didn't know that for sure at the lighthouse. I had my first vision before going to the bathroom. I couldn't bear it if I let you die, the tornado came anyway, and I couldn't go back. At the time I made that fucked up choice, I just completely trusted you. It didn't occur to me that maybe you were wrong."

"Well, let's see how risky it was," Chloe urges me. "Take a selfie, then try to rewind. If you cause another tornado, you can fix it with the selfie."

"No way," I answer forcefully. "After all that's happened last week, you want me to use my powers again? What if something really fucked up happens? We've been through way too much to do something so dumb now."

"But it's not dumb," Chloe parries. "What if something goes down and you need your powers only to find out you don't have them? Besides, this isn't risky at all. You fixed everything with a picture the first time. And it's not like every time you used your powers you created a storm. Only something huge like saving me fucks up the universe. And if you did do something like that again, you will be warned about the consequences with more visions."

Chloe's logic makes some sense. It seems like I can test my powers without risk, and it would be helpful to know if I can rely on them in a pinch. I don't want to find myself helpless in another Dark Room. Seems like Chloe can talk me into anything. "Okay, I'll do it," I concede.

I get my camera, point it at myself, then give Chloe a kiss on the cheek when I press the shutter. After shaking the photo, I smile at the image. Chloe is wearing this satisfied grin, beaming as my lips touch her face.

"I guess if I successfully rewind, I can give you another kiss," I playfully tease Chloe.

"I have no problems with that," Chloe smirks.

I raise my right hand and concentrate. Immediately, I begin to feel the familiar feeling of movement, except I'm stuck in place as the world moves around me. Even though I've only had these powers for a week, I forgot how intoxicating this feeling is. How I missed it after not rewinding for a while. Not wanting another nosebleed, I stop the rewind quickly.

"No problems with that," Chloe smirks.

"Done, but I didn't go back far enough to cheat another kiss," I say with some disappointment.

"I'm willing to give you this one, hippie. Besides, I have no idea how far you went back, so maybe you are just trying to get out of kissing me again." Chloe thrusts her right cheek closer to me, begging for another peck.

We are interrupted by a loud banging sound against the wall across from us. The walls are paper thin, and we could clearly hear moans coming from the adjacent room. I look at Chloe and blush. I can't help it.

Chloe turns to me excitedly. "Want to try to be louder, Max? This will be so much fun." Before I can collect my thoughts, Chloe starts loudly moaning. "OHHhh, MAX, RIGHT THERE!" Chloe begins to jump on the bed, causing it to squeak loudly.

My blush deepens considerably. I haven't been more embarrassed in my life. Chloe sees my discomfort and continues. "FUCK YES, MAX! HARDER!"

Obviously, Chloe hasn't changed too much. If I wasn't so embarrassed, I might be excited to hear Chloe like that. I sit there, unable to do anything. Chloe valiantly fights on as the couple in the other room becomes louder in response. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MAX? NOT THERE!? NO, NO . . . YESSss!"

This goes on for some time with Chloe's yells getting more and more raunchy, but Chloe is no match for those two, especially without my help. Chloe finally stops, giggling to herself as she sees my face, devoid of color. I'm clearly beyond blushing. Chloe pretends to be out of breath. "Thanks, Max. I needed that."

Chloe smiles, clearly relishing my embarrassment. "Well, now that we got that mushy shit out of the way, I'm fucking starving. The motel has a shitacular diner attached. Want to be my brunch date?"

I nod, still unable to produce any sound out of my mouth. I have to admit that WAS fun, but I can't let her know that. I would never hear the end of it, and she doesn't need any encouragement.

Chloe gets out of bed and begins to dress for the day. I politely turn around to give her some privacy, which she certainly doesn't care about as she changes in the middle of the room instead of going to the bathroom.

Chloe sees me turn and laughs. "You never change, do you? You have seen me naked before, Maxipad."

"Yes, but we were kids, and we weren't dating!" I blurt out, not fully thinking about what I am saying.

My best friend gives me a wink. "Well, I certainly hope that we are at least dating after what you just did to me. I am not the type of girl that goes for one-night stands. Well, not anymore."

Chloe, now fully dressed in her usual punk uniform, returns to bed and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "But seriously, I think it's official. I love you. You are clearly crazy as fuck for me, for good reason. We are dating."

The biggest grin leaps onto my face. I don't think I've ever been happier. "It's official, girlfriend. Now, I need to change."

I get out of bed and go to the clothes pile, picking up my previous day's attire. I jump back as a roach is revealed, and Chloe stomps on it, smashing it into the carpet. "Well, that may be an improvement," she adds. "Gives it some color other than that dirt stain."

I smell my clothes, which stink of mildew from yesterday's rain. I guess we couldn't just go back to my dorm to get a fresh pair. Chloe pretends to pout as I go into the bathroom with my hipster outfit.

* * *

We eat a shitty meal at the diner. I can't decide between the bacon omelette or the Belgian waffle, so Chloe orders one and I get the other. Best girlfriend ever. Both are dog awful, but we hungrily devour them, sharing our food along the way.

As we finish our meals, a trucker comes in with a middle-aged woman. Their hair is wet, revealing that they recently shared a shower. The couple sits in a booth close to ours.

Chloe takes a sip of coffee. "So, what do you want to do with the rest of our day, Max?"

The woman looks over at me and starts laughing. I gaze at her, wondering what her deal is. She then says, "Max? A girl? You need to try harder, much harder, next time if you hope to beat us. Can't say I was expecting to see a meek woman like yourself with everything your girlfriend was saying you did to her. You are into some really fucked up shit."

My blush returns, and I bury my face in my arms. My embarrassment from before is nothing compared to what I am feeling now. Chloe cackles, laughing so hard that she can barely manage to add to my shame. "Yes … she really needs to pound me harder … next time."

"THIS IS A FAMILY ESTABLISHMENT," the manager yells from behind the counter. "TAKE YOUR FILTHY LANGUAGE OUTSIDE."

With that, Chloe leaves a twenty on the table and rushes me outside. It was only after returning to our room did I think about rewinding away my embarrassment. Too late now, and Chloe would be pissed if she found out that I took that away from her. Score one for team Chloe.

* * *

We spend the rest of our day hanging out around the motel, which Chloe told me is just outside of Arcadia Bay. I couldn't bring myself to go back into town and face the disaster I wrought. My only interest was being with my new girlfriend.

My phone buzzes, and I tempted to ignore it as I am so annoyed at the interruption. I immediately feel guilty as I see Mom on my phone's screen. I should have called them already. Other me must have spoken to them yesterday as I'm sure they heard about the storm and were worried sick. I'm actually surprised that they aren't already here, begging me to come back to Seattle. They already suggested doing that after Kate, so I can only imagine what they are like now.

Chloe takes my phone from me and is about to dismiss the call when she sees that it's my parents. She reluctantly hands the phone back to me. "I shouldn't stop you from picking up another important call, even if your parents have the audacity to interrupt our snuggle session."

I accept the call before my phone can buzz again. "Hey mom. How are you?"

"Doing much better now that I've heard from you, Maxine." Mom's usually reserved voice is quivering with concern. I've never heard her like this. She's usually so calm and collected. "We have been so worried. We spoke to your friend yesterday, and she said that you were too upset to talk. I wish you would have called us sooner. You don't realize how much we needed to hear from you."

"Sorry," I sheepishly say. "No excuses. I should have called."

"It's okay, honey," mom reassures me. "I know yesterday was traumatizing for you, and your dad and I are just upset that the roads into Arcadia Bay are closed. You know we would have been there as soon as possible. It sounds like you have a great friend who is helping you get through all of this, so we taking comfort in that."

"Chloe is amazing," I say with enthusiasm. "She's helped me so much. I don't deserve to be friends with someone as awesome as her." Chloe mouths "friends?" to me, but I wave her off.

"You are a good person, Maxine," my mother gently scolds me. "You shouldn't be so down on yourself. Well, it looks like the roads will be clear by tomorrow, so we are coming down to pick you up."

"I may need some more time here, mom," I respond. "I'm also helping Chloe get through this, and she just lost her mother in the storm. I have to be here for her."

"Of course, I understand. We will be there for as long as you need. We love you so much, Maxine. Looking forward to seeing you. Be sure to be careful as a disaster area can't be very safe."

"I will be, though Chloe and I are staying in a motel outside of town. We should be fine. I love you too, mom."

My mother then hands the phone off to pop, who talks to me for a bit before I let him go. I didn't tell them about Chloe and me. How am I going to tell them? "Oh, by the way, you know my best friend when I was a kid? Well, I have been with her for less than a week, and we found out that we have feelings for each other. We are totally in love." THAT sounds believable.

I have to tell them though. It wouldn't be fair to Chloe otherwise. I don't want to hide my feelings for her, especially not with my parents. Maybe I'll just use my powers until I can find the right way to tell them. I let Chloe know that I'm planning on doing so, and she lets me describing her as a friend slide.

Chloe and I pass the time "watching" TV on this old CRT tube in the room. I'm surprised that this place has cable, but we actually don't watch much of it. Mostly, the TV is in the background as we make out.

I haven't ever been with anyone before, so I feel super awkward, but Chloe is so sweet. She calms me down, and it starts to feel more natural. I can't believe I am doing this now. Just yesterday, I was at her funeral. Now we are dating?

I look up at Chloe after we decide to take a break and snuggle. I feel so lucky. I don't know how I got here without my powers, but I'm not arguing.

Just as I think life can't get much better, I hear a buzzing sound. What the hell is that?

* * *

My phone buzzes again and I reach over to turn off the alarm. I usually don't set one on Saturdays, but I didn't want to sleep the day away. I open my eyes to my dorm room. I turn over to find myself alone.

 **A/N:**

Like I said in the previous note, the final choice is much more complex than what it seems to be at first glance. I started to discuss that here, before our protagonists were rudely interrupted. There may be more discussion of Max's big decision later on.

This story assumes a Pricefield path through the game, but that seems to me to be pretty close to Max's true feelings. If you don't kiss Chloe, Max confesses in her journal that she regrets her decision. Also, the only other possible romantic interest, Warren, seems to be clearly in the friend zone. There's the aborted hug in episode one. If Max accepts Warren's invitation to the drive-in, Max writes in her diary that she hopes Warren doesn't make a move on her. If you kiss Warren, Max tells him "for luck," which seems to refer to the kiss Leia gave Luke on the broken bridge in the Death Star. Hardly a romantic gesture. Then there's the nightmare, in which Max sees Chloe flirting with others regardless of your decisions. Clearly, Max feels something for her or Max's subconscious would not use Chloe in that way to bother her. Also, the dialogue in episode 3 really feels like Chloe and Max feeling each other out to see if the other might have any interest. Plus, this reading of the game doesn't make Max's sexuality a choice, but rather gives the player the option of how to pursue Max's feelings.

Probably the biggest issue I have with the game is the bae ending. It is more difficult to execute than the bay ending, which leads to a straightforward conclusion. However, there is no closure in the bae ending, making it feel very unsatisfying. Worse, when compared to the other ending, the bay ending feels like it is canon, even though the devs have said that both are canon. This lack of closure could have been fixed with a simple photo sequence showing Max and Chloe's lives afterwards, possibly ending in a wedding. Plus, the bae ending was poorly executed as the impression we are given is that Max and Chloe just leave town without checking for survivors. Chloe, who just spent half a year trying to find Rachel, would not just give up on Joyce. I've tried to sand off the rough edges here.

My hope with this story is to continue the narrative of Max and Chloe after episode five by incorporating both endings. I feel that both endings could work together and offer a good amount of room for continuing the story. When the game's plot has time travel has a central element, you really have the freedom to do whatever you want.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 _ **Saturday, October 12, 2013**_

 _So, I'm back in my dorm room. So lame._

 _Yesterday was the best and worst (not to mention longest) day of my life. With all the shit I had to go through with the Dark Room, that fucked up choice, and Chloe's funeral, I thought maybe, just maybe things we going my way when I found myself in Chloe's bed. I didn't care that I might be dreaming as I was just so happy to get to see her again. Was it just a dream? I mean, it didn't feel that way, but I did go to sleep, see Chloe, and then wake up in my bed. That seems pretty dreamlike. Then again, Chloe's pinch did really fucking hurt._

 _Speaking of Chloe, oh my god! She feels the same way I do! I guess I shouldn't be that surprised with how much she's been leading me on last week and that whole really passionate goodbye kiss next to the lighthouse, but I never imagined someone as wonderful as her would find me even remotely attractive. I'm so shy and pathetic sometimes, and I've gotten used to spending all of my Valentine's Days alone. How did this happen? What the hell does she see in me? I mean, I hardly measure up to the gorgeous Miss I'm-super-perfect Rachel Amber._

 _Does this make me gay? I guess so. I mean, she's super hot, and I get this weird tingly feeling whenever she touches me. I've never felt that way before about anyone. Maybe there's a reason I haven't ever dated any boys before. Learning new things about myself._

 _My girlfriend. It feels so right to write that, but what if I never see her again? "It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?" That's bullshit. Why can't I just be happy with her? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?! These powers suck ass. It seems like I was cursed to never be happy again when I got them._

 _Am I being too emo? I mean, other people have it worse. In this timeline, Chloe is dead without knowing that anyone really cared for her except for her mom. At least I was able to see her again, if only it was temporary. No one else gets that luxury. How many times have I been able to be with her after she has died? I have gotten so many opportunities to say goodbye. What is that saying on Chloe's wall? Just gotta let go?_

 _Fuck that. How can I let go when I know that somewhere, in some universe, she is waiting for me to brave the stormy seas and sail back to her? How can I give up on her when I know she will NEVER give up on me?_

 _I'm looking forward to going to bed tonight. Maybe I'll see her again? I am tempted to just go back to sleep now, but I don't need people to think I'm sulking in my room all day. I read in my diary that I agreed to go with Warren to the drive in. I can't believe that he still asked me after Chloe got shot and that the other me agreed. This is going to be so awkward._

I finish writing my day's entry in my diary. I need to keep this habit going in case I need to photo jump again. I never want to use my powers, especially not that ability, but something may come up. At the very least, it's the only place I say what's on my mind without sounding insane.

I need to wrap my head around what happened last night. Was that just a dream? It certainly didn't feel like it. Did my powers go haywire and are activating without my knowledge? Maybe, but why would I then find myself back in bed when my alarm went off? I feel like I need Chloe now more than ever. I know she would get to the bottom of this. Whatever this is, I need to go about my usual business today. I don't want to draw any attention to myself just in case this is my powers going haywire. Who knows what fucked up experiments the government would do on me if they found out I could control time?

It's bit after noon, and I want to check in on Joyce and David before going to the drive in. It seems that my other self in this timeline felt similarly as she had a daily habit of seeing them.

I give Joyce a call. She tells me to come on over and mentions that David will be away all day at work. It's sad that they couldn't take more time off of work, but their bills don't care about the loss of their daughter.

I can't tell if Joyce is happy to have me over so often or if I am being a burden. I can't seem to help myself though. I know Chloe was willing to let herself die because she loved me so much that she wanted me to have the opportunity to live my life free of the guilt of letting a town be destroyed when I had the power to stop it. But Chloe also didn't want her mother and even David to die needlessly in the storm. Seeing them reminds me that this was worth it. I need that now.

I wonder if Joyce is freaked out by how much Chloe's death meant to me. If Kate noticed that I took Chloe's death the hardest of anyone, including her own mother, what has Joyce and David seen? And how could other me, who was in control most of last week, have taken Chloe's death so hard? Was other me just feeling really guilty over finding a body in the bathroom without any knowledge of how she got there or who the body belonged to? I bet she felt even worse than I did on Monday when Chloe called me out on leaving her without a word for five years.

I finally get dressed for the day, opting for my trusty t-shirt, jeans, and hoodie combo. I must have slept for quite a long time. Come to think of it, it was about the amount of time that I was with Chloe.

I make the walk down to the parking lot, pulling my hoodie close to my body as I try to ward off the autumn chill. No more bus rides for me. Joyce gave me Chloe's old, rusty truck. I imagine Joyce wouldn't have gotten much for it anyway, and Joyce did not like to drive much after William.

As I make my way to the truck, I can see Juliet sitting on the curb, close to where she was that Monday that never was when I returned Warren's flash drive. Her hair is in its usual sidebun, and she is wearing a denim jacket, skirt, and white t-shirt. She appears sad and withdrawn.

The old me, the me that existed before this last week, probably would have minded my own business and walked on. However, my powers have shown me that I can actually talk with people, even complete strangers, without making an ass of myself. Sure, that's harder now that I can't use my powers as a crutch, but I know that I can make a difference if I just try to be a friend. Juliet herself called me out on my bullshit that last Monday, saying that I don't care and am absorbed by my camera. I felt ashamed as I even had to rewind to find out her last name.

"Hey, Juliet," I say as I approach. I am tempted to use her full name, but maybe other me has been friendly with her.

Juliet looks at me with recognition. "Hey, Max. What's up?" Looks like other me has made the rounds.

"How are you doing? Something seems to have upset you," I say with worry in my voice.

"Well, I just found out that the sext that Victoria saw from Dana to Zach was really from Victoria," Juliet responds. "How could I be so dumb? Victoria obviously has had it out for me since my _Totem_ expose on the Vortex Club. I've been such an asshole to Dana this week because I get so stupid jealous."

The real drama queens of Blackwell. This all seems so trivial compared to last week, but part of me wishes that I could be bothered by crap like this. "Just promise to do Dana's laundry for a week or so, and she will forgive you. I can relate to being jealous over someone special. That betrayal just sucks." My thoughts turn to Chloe flirting in the nightmare.

Juliet narrows her eyes, her investigative side becoming active. "Someone special? You mostly keep to yourself. Who is this secret admirer?"

"You wouldn't know my admirer. We haven't been together long, and my admirer no longer goes to Blackwell. Anyway, we are in a really awkward spot right now, so I don't know how long it may last." I purposely avoid using pronouns. It's not that I am ashamed of being into girls, but I am afraid Juliet will make a big deal of it. Plus, I haven't told anyone in this timeline, so telling a reporter before I had the chance to tell others on my own terms is just a bad idea.

"Hmm. Okay. Well, thanks. I'll talk to Dana. Hopefully she'll forgive me," Juliet says suspiciously. I think that maybe she caught on. I guess I can't slip one past Blackwell's x-treme reporter.

"Well, I need to go. I'll see you later, Juliet. If you would like me to talk to Dana for you, just let me know." I smile at Juliet and then turn to Chloe's truck.

I get into the truck and start it up. It feels so wrong to be in here without her. I linger at the graffiti in the cab, smiling at the sight of her handwriting. I need to be there for Joyce and David. It's the least I can do for Chloe, who did everything for this town. For me.

* * *

All I can think about during the drive down to 44 Cedar Avenue is the first trip in this truck with my faithful chauffeur and companion. How she was so angry but also so relieved to see me. I would give anything to have her here in this truck again, going to see her mother. Even if it meant Chloe hated me.

I arrive at Chloe's house and park in the driveway. I get the same feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had when I came to this house in the timeline with William alive. I knew that something awful waited for me in that house, and I worry that the Joyce I find here will be utterly broken.

The dilapidated, half-painted house seems the same, offering no clues about what I will find inside. I fiddle with the cute robot panda keychain hanging off the ignition as I delay going in. What do I say to her? I wish I could let her know how heroic Chloe was and how much I love her daughter. But there's no way to say that without sounding insane. I am suddenly thankful that Joyce was too upset to talk at the funeral.

I sigh and pull the keys out of the ignition. I can't delay this any longer. Chloe needs me in there, and I can't let her down. I walk to the door and knock. No response. Well, she knows I'm coming over, so I try the door and let myself in.

"Joyce? It's Max," I say as I enter. No response. I don't see anyone from the entryway or smell anything from the kitchen. Joyce can't be downstairs. I can hear some faint sobbing above me. In Chloe's room.

This is going to be much harder than I thought. I gingerly walk up the creaking, groaning stairs. They are in ill repair, like everything else in this house, including its residents. I stop at Chloe's room, pause to gather my thoughts, and open the door.

This room is about the same as it was last week except it's a bit tidier. Joyce gave me a box full of Chloe's stuff at the diner last week so she must have picked up a bit. Although it is mostly the same, the room feels so empty and hollow without my girlfriend.

Joyce, still in her waitress uniform, is lying on Chloe's bed and sobbing into a pillow that she is fiercely clutching. Joyce had to go back to work quickly, and she scrambled just to get Friday off for the funeral. The pillow that she is holding probably still has her daughter's scent. I notice that her mascara has marked the path of tears down her face, making her look like some ghoulish football player.

I hesitate as I approach. "Joyce? It's Max. I'm here for you." I have no idea what to say. The words just come out of my mouth as soon as they enter my head.

Joyce looks up and continues to cry, and her hair, usually kept neat, is frazzled. "Max... She's... gone… My baby... What kind… of world... does this?"

Her words pierce me, reminding me of that awful night Chloe and I found Rachel. Instead of saying anything, I lay down next to Joyce and hold her. What can I possibly say that would help?

Joyce continues to sob in my embrace. I think that the funeral finally made this real for her. That knowledge that she will never see her daughter again will now be with her forever. "Max? Why are... you even... here? You… don't know… her anymore."

Joyce's question cuts like a knife. She must be confused why I care so much even though to her I abandoned Chloe without a word until her death. I don't know what else to say, so I stammer: "Umm… well… she's very... " What the hell do I say? She's very vulnerable right now. She doesn't need any of my bullshit. I can't very well say what I'm thinking. _OMG, OMG, OMG, Chloe and I are dating! Don't worry, she's just in another timeline. Oh, I didn't tell you that I have time-travel powers? Why are you looking at me like I'm insane?_

Chloe's mom, still crying, pushes me back to look into my face to look me in the eye. "What's… wrong?"

I'm startled by the question, so I just say what's been on my mind since I woke up this morning. The thing that I've been obsessing out after I got back from my nightmare and realized how much Chloe means to me. "I love her." I immediately inwardly curse at myself for being so careless. I am seriously tempted to rewind, but I hold back as that may undo everything Chloe died for.

Joyce stops sobbing, sits up away from me, and looks at me in the eyes. "You love her? What does that mean? You were great friends as kids, but you grew apart. You don't owe her or me anything, Max. You have your own life to live. You don't need the burden of the guilt you must feel for being in that bathroom with her. You have nothing to feel sorry for."

I squirm on Chloe's bed as I also sit up. How can I possibly tell her how much Chloe means to me? "Nothing. It's nothing. Please don't worry about me. You just lost your daughter. I don't need to be adding to your pain. I'll be fine."

Joyce shakes her head and holds my hand. "It hurts so much right now, but I'm going to make it. I have been through this before with William. This is worse as now I not only lost Chloe but also the only remaining link to William that I had. But I'll get through this. I'll never be over it, but I can live with the pain. I just don't understand why you are taking her death so hard. Sure, it must have been horrible to be in that bathroom with her, but you have been obsessing over her passing."

Then a thought occurs to me, and I run with it. "I have seen Chloe more than just that fucked up morning in the bathroom. A few weeks ago, I reached out, and we started seeing each other. She insisted that I not come over to this place because she was afraid David would find out and try to push me away. Her going to Blackwell was also not an option for the same reason. Instead, we went to American Rust. What she called her 'home away from hell. It was there that I got over my guilt for being such a shitty friend to her when she needed me the most. What we discovered is that our feelings for each other ran deeper than just friendship. I was dating your daughter." It is so surreal to admit this half-truth to Joyce without Chloe here, beaming as we hold hands.

Joyce sits there, stunned. Then, after a few minutes, she smiles. "I'm glad you two got together before…. I was so afraid that Chloe felt completely alone, without knowing that anyone cared for her. I certainly did, but I don't know if she felt that. From what you told me, at least she …" Joyce pauses as the next word seems to bring her physical pain, "died knowing that someone other than her mother loved her."

The truth of this timeline is far more heartbreaking than this, but maybe this white lie can bring Joyce some comfort. Is it really much of a lie? The full truth, that Chloe is happy with some version of me in an alternate timeline, is perhaps more reassuring. I smile weakly. "I do feel guilty for letting Chloe down when she needed me the most. I didn't know she would be in that bathroom. I saw the gun and just froze. I was scared shitless. I couldn't do anything to help my love. The indescribable pain you are feeling right now is all my fault."

My admission of guilt brings fresh tears running down Joyce's face. "Oh, sweetie, you didn't shoot her. You aren't the cause of my pain. Only that fucking entitled piece of shit rotting in a cell is to blame." It's startling to hear Joyce swear. "You loved her, that much is clear to me now. Why else would you come by here so much? I know her death has been harder on you than just about anyone, but I didn't understand until you explained yourself. Chloe did like keeping secrets. I hope she didn't feel that she couldn't tell me about you because I would judge her."

"We were afraid that our parents wouldn't understand," I reply. "I mean, it happened all so fast. How could we explain how quickly we fell for each other? Crap, it happened to me, and part of me still doesn't believe that someone as wonderful as Chloe was into me. We didn't think you would judge us for liking each other but may for how fast things went."

Joyce turns away from me, thinking of asking something else. She is clearly torn about saying what is on her mind, and I begin to understand her question. "Umm…" I begin, knowing this is going to be really awkward. "We weren't… err… ever intimate."

The waitress's face turns red.. "Oh, no, hun. I didn't want to know that. I was going to ask if you knew if you liked women before Chloe."

I return her blush. "Oh, well, no. Chloe helped me find that out about myself. I'm not sure if it was just Chloe, though. She is… was unique."

Joyce smiles at me, hinting at the time before David told her that awful news of last week. "Max, thanks for coming over. Having you here reminds me of her, when she was so happy with you as kids. It's nice to be around someone who cared about Chloe just as much, or even more, than I did."

I wish things didn't have to turn out this way, that Chloe and Joyce could be together in the same timeline instead of cruelly torn apart. At least Chloe knows that her mother is still alive somewhere. I can't give Joyce that same comfort. But maybe I can do something small. "Joyce, what would you want to say to Chloe if she was still here? If you were able to tell her something before she went into that bathroom."

Chloe's mother pauses to consider her response. "Well, I would tell her that I love her so very much. Umm… well, she means the world to me." Joyce pauses again to collect her thoughts. "She is my hero. She is so strong, smart, and loving. I would tell her that she is my life, and I care for her more than anything."

"She is your life?" I question her. "You have David and so much to live for. Please don't say such things. Chloe couldn't handle it if you just gave up. You meant so much to her. She would die for you." If only she knew how true that was.

Joyce pats me on the knee, trying to reassure me. "You misunderstand me. I am not giving up. Like I said, I got over William's death, and I will learn to live with Chloe's. Time heals all wounds, I guess. What I meant is that she is my future, my hope that things would be better someday. I'm going to be stuck being a waitress for the rest of my life, but Chloe was so smart. She could have done anything she wanted. You knew how wonderful she was, even if she refused to show that to the world. Now, with her gone, that hope is gone as well. I love David, and he's a good man, but a parent should never bury her child."

It seems that not only did I sacrifice Chloe and my happiness that day, but I also gave away a huge part of Joyce and David's lives as well. I know that if they were at the lighthouse, they would have eagerly told Chloe to let them die. They would have been perfectly fine with it to protect their daughter.

I take Joyce's hand that's holding mine and cup it with my other hand. "Joyce, I don't know if this is just wrong to say, but I consider you a second mother. I probably spent just as much time over here as a kid than I did at my own house. Recently, Chloe and I were so close that it felt like we were family, even if I didn't come see you because of our fears. I would never forgive myself if you hurt yourself because I failed to save Chloe."

Joyce's smile deepens, warming her face. I haven't seen this from her since I came back next to the lighthouse. "You can call me mom, if you like. That would make me feel better, having someone call me that again."

"Okay, mom," I say, trying it out. It feels natural. "Just let me come over often. Being with you brings a part of Chloe back."

"Well, this is your house, sweetie. You can come over anytime." My second mother gives me a key, probably Chloe's.

* * *

After a while, I hug Joyce (mom 2?) farewell and return to Chloe's truck. Now, it's time for a night of clumsy conversation and artless attempts at an arm around my shoulder. I check my phone, bracing for the deluge of anxious texts.

 **Warren (11:32 a.m.):** MAD MAX! Get ready to GO APE!

 **Warren (11:33 a.m.):** Remember, pick you up at your dorm at 4 for dinner.

 **Warren (12:01 p.m.):** Hey, just checking to see if you are still on. Txt me soon!

 **Warren (12:45 p.m.):** Umm, I do like sending you texts, but it would be nice to get one back.

 **Warren (1:24 p.m.):** I am really enjoying watching my phone, waiting for it to buzz. It's so entertaining. Could happen at any time.

I sigh, cursing at myself for being a bad friend. I should have texted him earlier, but I have been avoiding this all day. I type out a reply and send.

 **Max (1:57 p.m.):** Srsly sorry =(

 **Max (1:58 p.m.):** I'm rdy to go ape. C U at 4

 **Max (1:58 p.m.):** Thx for being such a good friend. I've needed that this week :)

 **Warren (1:58 p.m.):** Proud to be your white knight. See you soon.

I'm starting to worry about this date thing. What if Warren makes a move on me? I know that I will totally freak out on him after everything that's happened to me last week, and Warren wouldn't understand why. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I should have a talk with him beforehand. He needs to know that I care about him, but I just don't share his feelings. Warren's a good friend, and I trust him. He's the only guy, except David and my dad, that I feel comfortable being alone with after the Dark Room.

I return to Blackwell and go back to my dorm, preparing myself for the big "date."

* * *

At ten minutes to four, I hear an eager knock on my door. Of course he's early. He's been hyped for this all week.

I open the door to Warren's glowing smile. It's strange to see him without his black eye. It feels like seeing Thrall without Doomhammer. Warren is dressed in khakis with a light blue collared shirt, buttoned partly, revealing a t-shirt of the original Planet of the Apes movie poster underneath. Even when he dresses up, Warren can't hide his inner nerd.

I'm wearing the outfit that I took to the Zeitgeist, a light green jacket over a white dress shirt (well, at least what qualifies as a dress shirt for me) with black jeans. A dreamcatcher necklace graces my neck. I debated about dressing up, as I don't want to lead Warren on by wearing something special, but I decided to go for it as I am planning on having a frank conversation with him beforehand.

"Maxwell Silver Hammer!" Warren greets me with excitement. "Looking good, girl. Let's GO APE!"

"Look, Warren, we need to talk before we go. I need you to know how things stand between us so there's no confusion and you aren't expecting something that I cannot give." I'm dreading the next few minutes as I am scared that this will do lasting damage to our friendship. I've already lost my best friend in this reality. My new best friend may be another casualty.

Warren's demeanor noticeably shifts from enthusiasm to worry. He has to know where this is going, and I'm sure he's been dreading this conversation. It's better to have hope than the cold knowledge that nothing can ever happen. I take a seat on my bed while Warren moves to the couch.

"You are my best friend, Warren. I love that I can talk to you about anything and that you are such a great guy," I say as Warren meekly smiles. I shouldn't prolong this any longer. "It's because of that that I can tell you something that I just found out about myself. Something that I really haven't told anyone else." It's time to drop the hammer. "I'm gay, Warren."

I'm not sure if I would really say that I'm gay as I have found some Blackwell bros to be cute. I do know that I am absolutely smitten with Chloe, and it is far easier to tell Warren that I'm gay than to give him hope that we can be together. I'm with Chloe, forever.

Warren instinctively opens his mouth widely. "What? Really?"

I blush, though I have no reason to. Maybe it's the thought of being with Chloe. "Yes. I just found out not too long ago. I'm sorry if I led you on, Warren. You are an amazing guy, and some girl is going to be very lucky to be with you. You are so obvious when it comes to me. I know that you are into me, but I'm sorry to say that I can never feel the same about you."

Warren shifts uncomfortably on my couch. He's trying to find the perfect words. "Look, Max, you will always be my friend. I don't care if you like girls or are into Nazi zombies. You are amazing and the kindest, most caring person I know."

"Nazi zombies?" I'm glad that Warren can still find humor. I hope I didn't break his heart.

"Yeah. Dead Snow? Did you not learn anything from my flash drive?" Warren gives me a smile.

"I haven't seen much of it. Just flashes. Honestly, I didn't have much of a drive to do anything this past week." I am pleased with myself for the puns, however bad they may be. At least they are better than "go-tassium."

"Har har," Warren facepalms. "We should get going. It's a drive to Newport."

* * *

The rest of the evening goes along smoothly. Warren sprung for some fine dining at Newport's most distinguished diner. After we finish our burgers and milkshakes, we headed over to the drive in. I think Warren was just happy to spend some time together, regardless of our talk before we left. Even though I have seen all of those movies before, seeing them again with Warren was a blast. We arrived back at Blackwell well after midnight, and Warren was a perfect gentleman the entire time. I don't know why I was so nervous before. He took my news quite well.

I put on my pajamas and prepare for bed. I've been looking forward to this all day. I hope that I will soon wake up again in Chloe's arms. Surely last night wasn't a fluke. I repeat my actions from last night as best as I can, hoping that I don't screw anything up.

I get into bed, but even though it's been a long day, sleep comes slowly as I am too excited to see her. My mind is filled with thoughts of her. I'm planning our next day together, and wonder what she's doing now. I imagine her lying next to me, holding me as I try to fall asleep. I can almost feel her nuzzling up against me, her lips pressed against my neck.

Eventually, after a long while, I fall asleep.

* * *

I wake up and immediately open my eyes. I'm alone in a cell, on a cold, hard cot. I'm not wearing a prison uniform but rather a yellow cardigan over a simple white shirt with some thin orange stripes and dark jeans. Guess I haven't been here long. I try as best as I can to keep calm. I should find out what's going down soon.

I wait for what seems an hour, and a guard enters the room and unlocks my cell door. "You are free to go," the guard explains. "Your girlfriend has paid your bail. She is waiting for you in the lobby."

Chloe! Yes, she's here! I wonder what kind of trouble she's gotten me into and why I'm in here and not her. I get out of the cell, collect my things from a guard, and follow the signs to the lobby, practically skipping with excitement. I'm tempted to stop and check my phone, but I can't bear to waste a second in this timeline without Chloe. I open the lobby doors, looking for that unmistakable blue hair. There's none to be found. My eyes instead fall on a short blonde pixie cut.

"Maxine, darling, I have missed you," Victoria greets me.

 **A/N:**

I find it interesting to consider how differently the lives of those in Arcadia Bay are in the Sacrifice Chloe timeline as Max lost that week of affecting those around her. As seen in Chapter One, Victoria would presumably have won the Everyday Heroes contest as Max ripped her entry before taking the butterfly photo. It was interesting that she was included in the funeral as she probably did not care at all for Chloe, so that's why I went with the Nathan route as that gives her some reason to be there. As for Juliet, I think that she would eventually find out about the true source of the sext. She is a reporter, even if she gets "stupid jealous." Then there's the Planet of the Apes marathon with Warren. We know that he has a backup plan with Brooke, but he's obsessed with Max. He would probably find some way of asking Autopilot Max during the week even though she's likely to be very messed up from suddenly awakening to find her former best friend's body in the bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Maxine, darling, I have missed you," Victoria greets me.

Questions swarm around me like locusts. Where is Chloe? What has Victoria done? Why did she claim to be my girlfriend? Why was I in jail? Where am I?

I decide the prudent thing to do is wait for Victoria to explain. She gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and I feign relief. I think Chloe will forgive me for playing along for a while.

We make our way to her car, a red coupe with tan leather seats. After she opens my door for me, Victoria gets inside and places her head on the wheel. "Maxine, what the hell happened? How could you just kill Chloe like that?"

I try to restrain any look of surprise that might betray me. Kill Chloe?! I would never do that. I'm positive that no version of me would be capable of that. How was I framed for her murder?

Before I can come up with an answer, Victoria looks at me tearfully and continues. "Fuck, that was messed up. I thought that you were just really high at first with how weird you were acting on Wednesday. But then you do something like that? I mean, you hadn't seen her in over five years! What the hell happened? And don't give me that bullshit you have been serving to the cops, that you blacked out and woke up next to Chloe's corpse." Victoria's voice is unfamiliar as it lacks its usual bite. Instead, a certain softness has replaced it.

I try to piece together the clues before me, mentally putting the facts on the board like in Chloe's room. One, I was in jail. Duh. Two, I'm wearing something that I didn't think I had in my wardrobe. Three, Victoria claimed to be my girlfriend. Four, she probably cares about me because she paid my bail. Five, she stated that I killed Chloe, who I haven't seen recently. Six, she said I acted weird on Wednesday. Seven, I apparently don't have any idea how Chloe died.

Crap. I know where I am. This is the timeline in which I prevented William's death. I never thought my decision to let Chloe go would have any consequences. I guess I keep bouncing between different timelines when I fall asleep. "It's what she wanted me to do. It was the only choice she was able to make, and I had to respect her wishes. Look, she was already dying of lung failure. I was just accelerating the process so she could die on a rock, not a wave."

The Queen Bee eyes me suspiciously. "It just seemed so random. We were hanging out together with everyone and you suddenly left to go see her. You even told me to call you Max, never Maxine. I know that you want the others to call you Max, but you have never said that to me. I thought we were close, and you letting me call you by your full name was a way of showing that closeness. I mean, you only let your mother get away with that. So, it startled and hurt me when you said that."

I hold Victoria's right hand. "I haven't been feeling myself lately. Please ignore that. Of course you can call me Maxine." Those last few words were difficult to say, though I try to mask my irritation. Hearing my full name has always irrationally aggravated me, but I do let my mother get away with it. This Max must be really close to Victoria.

Victoria responds with a slight smile, almost too faint to notice. She then leans in for a deep kiss. I hesitate and then return the kiss, and I'm not sure if I'm that convincing. Maxine probably has much more experience at this than I do. I really want to hate every moment of that forced kiss, but I know that's a lie. I'm angry at myself for how much I did enjoy it. It didn't feel natural as with Chloe, but there was something else behind it that was amazing. Maybe Victoria is just really good at this. Afterwards, Victoria strokes my face as she gazes into my eyes. "It's okay. Let's go back to Wednesday. Why didn't you respond to my texts? I was so worried about you."

I resist the urge to pull away. I hate being intimate with anyone other than Chloe. It just feels like a complete betrayal, but I have to get more information. I hope she can forgive me. "Umm… well… it was pretty shocking to be around my former best friend who was now crippled, so I wasn't paying attention to my phone. Sorry, about that."

Victoria shrugs and pulls away from me. "I guess it all worked out for the best anyway. I wondered how you of all people could be arrested, but you must have known that being in this jail, away from Arcadia Bay, would be safe. And because you were here, I was in the area as well. I suppose your time as a hardened criminal saved both of us."

"What do you mean?" I say, puzzled.

Victoria looks me over like she's trying to determine why I'm confused. "You have mad powers, Maxine. You only got arrested because you wanted to be arrested. I gotta say there's easier ways of getting out of town though instead of this shitty county jail. If I wasn't here visiting you on Friday, I may have died in that storm."

The Max in this timeline must have told Victoria about her powers, just as I confided in Chloe. I guess this Max wasn't able to prevent herself from using her powers to stop the storm.

Then a thought occurs to me. This Max could not have saved Chloe in the bathroom. The Chloe of this timeline was trapped in a wheelchair and could not have possibly been in a position to blackmail Nathan. Why did the storm still happen? What did this Max prevent that caused the universe to react like that? Was this also a result of William being alive?

Victoria already knows about my powers, and I can't keep this up much longer. I decide to trust her, though perhaps I am really just trusting the version of myself who is so close to her. "Victoria, you know how I said I wasn't feeling myself? Well, I meant that literally. I'm not the Maxine you know but a Max from another timeline. I'm not sure how I got here this time."

The blonde immediately takes her hand out of mine. She shoots me a glare, and her voice returns to its haughty, familiar tone. "Let's end this charade. Next time, you shouldn't hesitate when your hot girlfriend gives you a kiss after being stuck in jail for a few days. Big giveaway that you aren't my Maxine. Where is she? What have you done to her, bitch? Maxine told me that someone stole her body on Wednesday, but I thought she was high or just traumatized from giving her friend an overdose. Now I can see that either she was right or has multiple personalities."

"I'm not sure where she is now," I respond calmly, trying to deescalate the situation. "She isn't crazy as I think I'm taking control of her body. Whenever I leave, she will be back here, where she belongs. I can tell that you really care for her. Believe me, I would rather be somewhere else too."

"You are lucky that you are in the body of someone I love," Victoria threatens. "How long will you be in there, you parasite? And what did you mean by not knowing how you got here this time?"

She just admitted her love for other me. Wonder if Maxine knows this. "I don't know for sure. Probably not longer than half a day. The first time I came into this timeline was through a photo to save Chloe's dad who died in a car accident in my timeline. I didn't know I would be getting into a different timeline that was completely separate from mine or taking over someone's life."

My rival (lover?) raises her hands. "Slow down there, Maxin … Max. What did you mean through a photo? My Maxine can rewind time for a few minutes or so but she's never gone back in time through a photo. I would know that."

"That's strange," I say. "Well, I can use photos of me to go back in time further than my normal rewind. When I go back, I take control over the body of my past self. During the photo jump in which I saved Chloe's dad, I was in my 13 year-old self but with my 18 year-old mind, so I was able to save him using what I knew from the future."

Victoria continues to glare at me, but her tone softens. "That's totally sick. And then you ended up in Maxine while we were sitting in front of campus? No wonder you looked so confused."

Victoria then resumes her harsh, interrogating tone. "But how did you think it was a good idea to kill someone and then leave? Maxine found herself waking up next to the corpse of someone she hadn't seen in years. How the fuck could you do that?"

I look at the floor, ashamed. "Sorry. I didn't think this timeline would exist after I left. I burned the photo I used to get here, so I thought that took care of everything. I would never had done that to Maxine if I realized what was going to happen."

Victoria's glare melts into a sigh. "Maybe I shouldn't trust you, but you are so cute that I can't help myself."

I turn back to Victoria, who is looking at me with such compassion. Is she really this different in this timeline? "Yeah, that day was fucked up. I never meant to steal her away from you or hurt your feelings by being aloof. It never occurred to me that I was possessing someone else. And this time I came to this timeline accidently after falling asleep in my dorm room at Blackwell. I don't know why that's happening." I suddenly have the urge to give Victoria a hug. It feels so good to be able to talk about this stuff to someone else, even if that someone else is in a different timeline that maybe I created?

Screw it. I move to embrace her, slightly contorting myself over the center console to reach my target. Victoria is stiff at first, but her resistance fades quickly. I'm surprised by how natural hugging her feels. Whatever our relationship was in my timeline, I get the feeling that I can fully trust this version of her. In a sense, I already did?

"That was … totally surprising," Victoria admits. "Are we close in your timeline?"

"Umm … no. Quite the opposite of close. You are such a bitch to me," I answer. "But I kinda did use my powers to get you covered in paint. Sorry."

Then Victoria said something that the other version of her would never let past her lips. "Well, I did probably deserve it if I was ever mean to someone as wonderful as you." The blonde then starts her car. "Anyway, enough talk outside the police station. Let's go to my hotel room."

This can't be a good idea. "Umm… I know that we kissed earlier, but I just did that to get you to believe that I was Maxine. I'm seeing someone else."

Victoria laughs at my unease. "You are so cute. That kiss meant nothing other than to test you. I want to go back to my room because it's the only comfortable place left near this town. I swear I won't try anything even if you are drop-dead gorgeous. Out of curiosity, who got to you first in your timeline?"

"Chloe," I swoon.

Victoria grins. "The person you just killed here? Well, that's awkward. Guess I'm glad you didn't hook up with me."

* * *

To get to Victoria's hotel, we had to drive through the ruins that were once Arcadia Bay. Driving around the town would have added a lot of time to the trip, and after Victoria asked me if I was fine with it, we headed to town. Access to much of the town is blocked, given the destruction left behind by the storm, but we managed to get through with a series of detours. I was expecting the town to be completely leveled with the storm leaving little trace of the place where I grew up. I was stunned to see how much of Arcadia Bay remained.

Many of the buildings were intact, though all had some scar from the tornado. Some had beached whales sunning on their roofs like some grotesque day at the beach. Others had their roofs shorn off, exposed to the elements. Not many structures had glass that wasn't shattered, which is as good a metaphor as I can think of for what the storm did to the lives of those living in Arcadia Bay.

I had been bracing myself for seeing bodies littered throughout the town, turning the bay into a giant above-ground cemetery. To my relief, I did not see much of that, and the few bodies that I did notice were covered with tarps. There were not many people at all. There was the random person here and there checking a home or business and some emergency rescue crews looking for survivors. But there weren't any cleanup units or utility workers trying to get the town back on its feet. It was like the powers that be decided that the bay, which was already falling on hard times before the storm, was not worth rebuilding.

I saw what was left of Blackwell as the ruins of the school overlook the bay. The main hall looked leveled and now mostly a pile of bricks and broken glass. The prestigious art school used to be the big draw to the sleepy fishing town, and now that it's gone, I can see why people just want to cut their losses and get outta here. I wonder if my Blackwell will be in similar shape as news of Jefferson and of Chloe's death will likely drive new students away.

We passed through the new ghost town in silence. Did I cause this storm by saving William? No, I quickly decide. If that was the case, why did the storm wait five whole fucking years to show up instead of the four days with Chloe? Also, the price for saving William was already paid by Chloe's accident. Something else must have happened.

Even though I was sure that I didn't personally cause this storm, I still felt responsible as I destroyed another version of the bay by saving Chloe. Though I prevented that in yet another timeline, there's still a universe without this town because I decided to save a girl in a bathroom. Victoria must have sensed my unease and decided to reassure me by silently placing her right hand on my leg. Even though I wanted to be with Chloe while seeing this, it was nice to have Victoria there to keep me from freaking out too much. I may not have personally killed all of these people, but my actions started a chain of events that led us here. If not for me, these people would be alive.

I catch the Queen Bee glancing over frequently with her brows furrowed in concern. Whatever animosity she felt towards me earlier is gone, replaced by empathy for her new friend. I'm sure it's also nice for her to have someone else to talk to about my powers. I try to keep myself composed in front of her, but a stray tear or two manages to escape, running quickly down my face as if worried that it will be locked away again if caught.

When seeing the town starts to become too much, I focus on the interior of the car. Victoria has an amazing sound system, which is clearly more than the stock stereo. I can only imagine what it sounds like when she has it on. The center console has some pictures in it, mainly selfies with her and Maxine.

It's so strange to see myself in a photo that I have no memory of. There's one with Victoria and me on the beach, sunbathing next to each other while we make faces at the camera. What the fuck were we thinking? I've only been here since September, so doing that in fall weather must have sucked. Then another shows us in her dorm room, on her bed under those three photos of herself, with me holding her from behind while kissing her neck. Victoria is wearing a broad smile, and it's so weird to see her so happy. A third reveals us in Portland, shopping in some trendy commercial district. It looks like Victoria took these shots, and I'm impressed by her style and framing, even for personal selfies like these. I can see bits and pieces of the relationship I share with her through these pictures even if I have no memories to provide context. Victoria shoots me a smile as she sees me rummaging through the photos, perhaps reminding herself of a happier time.

The car is well maintained as the floors are recently vacuumed and are free of trash. I notice a faint scent hanging in the air from an air freshener, but I can't quite make it out. Something cinnamon, perhaps?

Perched on her back seat is her own camera bag. I wonder what kind of equipment she has in there. I love my instant camera, but I'm sure I would be envious at whatever expensive beast she's keeping in that bag. Well, it doesn't matter as I'm not a digital camera girl. Too easy. It lacks all the patience and effort needed to get a great shot with an instant camera, so it's just not as rewarding. I am analog, a person outside her time, doing things the hard but fun way.

Being around someone who loves photography as much as me stirs my passion for it. Aside from that selfie with Chloe, I haven't picked up a camera since being rescued from the Dark Room. I couldn't bring myself to use an instrument that brought me so much pain. Whenever I would reach for my camera, I was reminded of either how Jefferson corrupted something so joyful or how that camera was the tool that indirectly led to Chloe's death. Both thoughts overwhelmed any desire to take new photos and drown myself in my art.

Eventually, we wind our way through town until we hit the main drive along the shore. Amazingly, given its proximity to the beach and the storm, the street is relatively clear. My heart breaks as we passed by what's left of the Two Whales, and I wonder if Joyce, Warren, and Frank met the same fate in this universe. Not that I can ever show my face to Joyce if she is still alive in this timeline. She must have been livid that I took Chloe away from her, and I'm sure the Prices were a big reason why I was in jail.

* * *

We eventually leave town and drive about a half hour until arriving at a seaside resort outside of town. The sprawling hotel sits on a hill overlooking the sea with wooden boardwalks connecting the building to the beach. The hotel looks new, undoubtedly financed in part by the Prescott family in their recent ventures into real estate around Arcadia Bay. It looks like the hotel is rather empty, given that those who just lost everything in the storm can't afford to spend a few minutes in a suite, much less an entire evening. This place could make a great relief station for all of those stranded by the storm, but the generosity of the Prescotts knows no bounds.

Victoria drives to the main entrance, where she is greeted by a valet. We get out of the car as the valet finds a place to park, which is not too difficult given the options in front of him. I follow her into the hotel, where I am astounded by the opulence of the lobby. A huge chandelier hangs from the ceiling over glossy white floors and a magnificent red rug. Hotel staff are dressed smartly in sharp uniforms, which contrast with the lackadaisical atmosphere stemming from a lack of business.

The blonde leads me through the lobby and to the elevator bank. The hotel is not very tall as it is only three stories, but we take the elevator up anyway. Once we reach the third floor, Victoria directs me to her room. Of course, she has a suite with a fantastic view of the sea and a king-size bed dressed with fine linens.

Victoria sits on the bed while I take a plush chair nearby. "So, why did you get me instead of my parents?" I ask. "I know you are close to me, but I'm sure my parents would have been there for me."

Victoria lays down on the bed. "Well, you told me not to involve them, so I made sure that they were kept in the dark. I had the money to pay for your bail, so it's no big deal."

"So, how … bad was the storm?" I'm unsure how to approach this, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

The blonde sighs and pauses for a moment before answering. "It was bad. We still don't know exactly what that was, but it was like no storm that anyone has seen before. Normally, we would have gotten plenty of warning before a storm like that hits, but this one just seemed to totally appear out of nowhere close to shore. We didn't have enough time to have a proper evacuation, so many people were stuck in town."

"That's … horrible." More rogue tears slip the confines of my eyes. Even though I didn't cause this storm, I still feel responsible. In a way, I am if the only reason is timeline exists is my meddling.

"Yeah…" Victoria trails off. "A lot of people died that day."

I then recount my own storm and how I made it happen and ultimately prevented it at a high cost. I haven't told anyone except Chloe this, and it felt cathartic to just unburden myself with all of this time-travel bullshit. Victoria did not need to be convinced of the accuracy of my story given everything she has gone through, but I could tell that she was getting paler as I unloaded my story on her.

"Did your Maxine use her powers to prevent someone from dying? That may have been the cause of your storm."

Victoria remains silent for a while, and I start to wonder if she even heard me. Then she mumbles, "I'm the cause of the storm. Maxine saved me from an overdose."

We are interrupted by a knock on the door. "Could you get that?" Victoria asks as she heads into the bathroom. "I can't deal with people now."

I open the door to find Nathan wearing his signature red jacket and shit-eating grin. "Hey, you're back! The pigs in this shithole town couldn't keep you locked up. NO ONE messes with my friends." Nathan then gives me a long, sincere hug, which completely catches me off guard. I stand there awkwardly as he embraces me, unsure of how to respond. Is this Nathan a different guy than the one capable of killing Chloe and torturing helpless women?

I silently plead for Victoria to emerge from the bathroom and save me from the awkwardness. The thought occurs to me that I desperately need to warn her about Nathan and Jefferson. In this timeline, no one searched for Rachel and Nathan didn't confess anything to the police, so the bunker bros could still be filling red binders. What if Victoria is next like in my timeline?

I start to sweat, clearly anxious about this situation. Nathan sees my tension. "Don't stress, Max. Relax. What the fuck did they do to you in there? I'm not used to seeing you like this."

"I'm okay, thanks," I quickly answer. "Just been a long couple of days. I think I just need some time alone with Victoria."

Upon hearing her name, Nathan looks into the room for his friend. "Well, tell her I said hi. We should do dinner if you are up to it. Only place to really eat anymore is the hotel restaurant, and I'll be there at six."

"Thanks, Nathan." It takes a lot of effort to get those words out of my mouth. It's hard to thank him for anything given what a version of him has done to me, but I guess it's easier than thanking Jefferson for killing Chloe like in my nightmare. "Maybe. I'll see how I'm feeling later. I may just want to chill with Vic and order room service."

With that, Nathan walks down the hall to another room, and I close the door, locking it behind me. Victoria comes out from the bathroom, and her swollen red eyes is all the evidence I need to see of what she doing.

"Thanks for covering for me, Max." Victoria smiles, though I could tell it was bittersweet. "It's strange to say, but I'm going to miss you after you are gone. You are so different yet so alike."

"No problem," I smile back before dropping the grin as I remember about my warning. "Look, we need to talk about Nathan and Jefferson. They are dangerous, and you should stay away from them."

I explain the events of the Dark Room and how Jefferson kidnapped and killed Victoria after I warned her about Nathan in my timeline. I don't go into detail about the Dark Room. I can't bring myself to do that. I just let her know that it was horrifying. Victoria took a seat and absorbed the news quietly. The look of shock on her face confirms that she had no idea what they were capable of. Victoria could only offer "That's totally fucked…" after I finished.

"You might be next," I plead. "Please be careful. Jefferson tricked us, and he could do the same to you."

Victoria manages a nod in agreement. This is a lot to lay on someone in such a short time, from the cause of the storm to the true nature of Nathan and Jefferson. I'm amazed how quickly I bonded with this Victoria and how I feel like I can tell her anything. Maybe it's because deep down and past all our bullshit, we are so alike.

* * *

I spend the rest of the day with my new friend in her hotel room. We watch a few episodes of _House of Cards_ and discuss our favorite photographers. I don't hesitate in praising her work, and to my surprise, she does the same. I appreciate the sentiment, but she only knows Maxine's work, not mine.

I also feel uneasy about leaving this timeline. I'm sure Victoria would rather have Maxine back, but her regret at me having to leave felt so sincere. I've been here for a while, and I get the feeling that I will wake up soon. I let Victoria know what's on my mind, and I am met with a frown.

Eventually, after some room service and in the middle of an episode of _Archer_ , I can feel myself slipping away, like I'm falling asleep. I weakly smile at Victoria and drift off. I can hear her say "au revoir" as I fall unconscious.

* * *

 _ **Sunday**_ _,_ _ **October**_ _**13, 2013**_

 _Back at Blackwell. What the fuck is happening to me? I haven't slept in days as I keep getting pulled into different timelines whenever I try. Oddly enough, I don't feel tired at all._

 _Although all I really want is to be in a timeline with Chloe, part of me is happy to see life go on as normal in this timeline of Chloe's sacrifice and to meet another side of Victoria in the William universe. I still have that butterfly photo in my camera bag, but I lose my nerve whenever I look at it and put it back._

 _Every time I use my photo power, it feels like I fuck something up. Even in this timeline, which was supposed to be perfect (except, of course, with the love of my life being dead), I somehow fucked something up and am traveling through timelines. Can I be selfish and use it now just so I can be happy? What if I somehow make things worse? What if this timeline disappears and Chloe's sacrifice becomes meaningless?_

 _Then again, I just came from a timeline that I thought no longer existed. I used William's photo to undo saving him and then burned it to make sure that the timeline would never exist. But it still does. Am I just afraid that if I use the butterfly photo I will screw something up and the timeline with Chloe will be lost to me?_

 _I think I'm making excuses to put this off. I can save the bay and have Chloe. Shit, it's not perfect as I can't have them together, but her sacrifice means that I can now be selfish without all the guilt attached. I need to do this._

 _I should say goodbye to everyone before leaving. I mean, I can't ACTUALLY say goodbye, but I should see people before I lose them to the storm. It will be hard, but having Chloe permanently back in my life is so worth it. They will have another Max, so this won't matter to them. Only I will have to miss them. This timeline will continue to exist without me, regardless of what choices I make in the past._

I spent the rest of the day hanging out with the people that I am going to miss. I had a fantastic brunch at the Two Whales with Kate and Warren while being served by my second mother. I then went back to Blackwell, waiting for Joyce to get off of work. I passed the time by talking with the girls in the dorm: Dana, Juliet, Taylor, Alyssa, Brooke, and even Victoria. During the early evening, I go to my second home and spend some time with Joyce and David for the last time, sharing a home-cooked meal. I get emotional, but I play it off as still missing Chloe, which I guess is partly true.

I finally go back to my dorm room as I am prepared to leave this timeline forever. I will really miss everyone, but I need Chloe in my life. I take out the butterfly photo from my bag. I spend some time looking at the back of the picture, steeling myself for what's about to happen. I'll make a note to myself in the bathroom to follow my heart when Chloe asks me to do the impossible. That should be vague enough to keep things from changing too much but clear enough that I should know what it means when the time is right. I could try to warn others about the storm, but I'm scared that will REALLY fuck things up.

Having figured out a plan of attack, I eagerly turn the photo over. I stare at my reflection in the bucket and start to concentrate, straining to hear the flapping of the butterfly's wings. Nothing happens.

 **A/N:**

Chasefield? Well, there is some support in the alternate universe for this. For one, Victoria initially calls Max "Maxine," which we know from texts is reserved for her parents. No one else calls her by her full name. This implies that AU Max and Victoria are close as Victoria feels she has license to use Max's full name. Second, in Victoria's texts to Max in this timeline, she is really worried that Max is pissed off, probably because Max left abruptly and also her snapping at hearing her full name. In those texts, Victoria tells Max that she loves her twice. This seems a bit excessive for just a simple friendship. Plus, we know that Max and Victoria share many of the same interests and have much in common, so it's not unreasonable to suggest that in some universe there could be romantic feelings between the two, especially if Chloe is out of the picture due to her disability.

Some may question Victoria's sexuality, given that she flirts with Jefferson and sexts Zach. I see those actions as Victoria using whatever means available to get what she wants. She wants to win the Everyday Heroes contest badly and sees Jefferson as a famous artist who can kickstart her career. Her flirtations are just attempts to get Jefferson to appreciate her and her art. When flirts alone don't work at the beginning of episode 3, Victoria uses threats to try to win the contest. Victoria's annoyance at Jefferson refusing to be blackmailed seems to indicate that she doesn't care about Jefferson as much as wants to use him to further her career. Similarly, her sext with Zach is just a means of getting to Juliet. There's also the nightmare scene where Victoria and Chloe are intimate, which implies that Max thinks that Victoria is gay.

A big unresolved question from the game is why is the tornado going to occur in the AU where Chloe was never saved in the bathroom? Max using her powers to save William is one answer, but I find it unsatisfactory for the reasons mentioned in this chapter. It's possible that AU Max also has powers and those powers trigger the storm. We don't have proof one way or the other, though AU Max's journal does not mention the powers. Then again, it doesn't mention much of anything.

Alternate realities existing simultaneously is something that is hinted at by the game. In episode 4, after going back to the original timeline, Max can take a seat at the bar stool downstairs. When you do, she wonders how many other Maxes exist in other universes due to her actions. In the nightmare, Max meets another version of herself in the diner, and that Max says she is one of the many Maxes left behind, implying that other universes exist after Max is done messing around with time. Then there are the twin moons in episode 4, which imply the existence of multiple timelines. Obviously, most of this evidence is from Max's thoughts and subconscious, so, like almost everything in the game, it's open to interpretation.

One could argue that multiple timelines existing at the same time could lessen the impact of decisions you make. However, as seen in this chapter, I think that means the opposite. Without the alternate reality continuing to exist after Max leaves, her decision to euthanize Chloe doesn't matter as Chloe will be alive in the one true timeline after Max uses the photo again. Here, the decision has serious consequences.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

I sit on my bed for what feels like an eternity, holding that damn butterfly photo with trembling hands. Why isn't this working? Have I lost the ability to photo jump?

I can still rewind, though, right? I raise my right hand and concentrate, trying to bend space and time. Nothing. What the fuck? I rewound earlier with Chloe. What's wrong with me?

I'm so pissed off right now. Why can't the universe just accept Chloe and I being together? I feel like my powers are just a sick joke. I tried to use them for good, only to unintentionally screw things up. I then resolve myself to not using them, only to discover that there's a way to have everything if I do. But the universe won't allow me to be happy that easily. I scream into a pillow.

Maybe I should be relieved I am no longer cursed with those powers, but it feels like part of me is missing. I feel empty and hollow. I feel so normal.

I resist the urge to tear the photo in frustration. Maybe this is temporary. I carefully place the picture back in my bag. What am I going to do now?

My room is mostly covered in darkness with the only light emanating from my floor lamp. There is a chill in the air, and I shiver before wrapping myself in the blankets on my bed. I sit there for a while in silence, thinking about what all of this means. Soon, I become anxious for some distraction from my thoughts, and I start rummaging through the shoebox full of Chloe's stuff that Joyce gave to me shortly after Chloe's death. I find a mix CD labeled "Chlomix to the Max" with "Max" underlined three times. I haven't seen this before, so I'm not sure when she got around to making this. I pop the CD into my hi-fi and a few light guitar chords greet me before a soft female voice begins to sing:

 _The way things have fallen_

 _Can't be afraid anymore_

 _First we were water_

 _In creation lake_

 _Has to start to end_

 _To go to where life lives_

 _There are 24 parts in a day that divides me_

 _From you_

 _24 parts in a day that divides me_

 _From you_

I think about the 24 hours in a day that separate me from Chloe between a night going to a different timeline and waiting for sleep again the next evening. I put the song on repeat as it amplifies and gives a voice to my thoughts. So much for shutting my brain off.

After a while, I put on my PJs and prepare for bed. Where will I go tonight? Will another 24 hours divide me from my girlfriend or will I find myself back in her embrace? I lay down and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to take me somewhere far from here.

* * *

I wake up to a familiar, dingy motel room. Part of me is worried that the universe is playing a sick joke and I'll be here alone. I am relieved after I anxiously turn over to find my girlfriend snoring. Again, I feel refreshed even though I just went to bed.

I pick up my phone to check the date and time. Sunday, October 13, 2013, at 10:12 a.m. I can see a few messages from my parents, asking about our plans for the day. I decide to wait on responding back until Chloe is up. I also see a message from Dana, but none from my other Blackwell friends. It looks like other me has already responded back to Dana, and I'm not sure what I can do for everyone else that the rescue teams aren't already doing. I can't rewind past the time I woke up in this timeline, so my power would not be helpful if I have it at all. I decide that I should concentrating on spending the rest of my day with Chloe. I set an alarm on my phone that is set to go off in eight hours. My Blackwell alarm should go off around that time, so that should give me some notice of when I'll leave her.

I am very tempted to wake Chloe with a long kiss as I want to spend as much time as I can with her. It feels so good to be around her again, like I've returned home after a long time away. Chloe's chest bobs up and down in rhythm with her snoring, which is more like an exaggerated breath than an annoying, loud snort. I find it to be totally endearing, though if I'm honest with myself, I probably find just about anything she does to be cute.

The motel room looks the same as I remember it, complete with the roach stain in the carpet. I can see some empty take-out containers and soda bottles on the table, leaving evidence of a night in. My back aches from being on this old spring mattress for the night, and I wish we had stayed at Victoria's hotel. Her bed was so much nicer, though it did lack this adorable snore monster.

I can't stop beaming as I turn to my girlfriend. It's still hard for me to believe that this is now a thing. It's only been about a week, but I can't imagine my life without her. I'm so head over heels for this blue-haired vixen, and somehow she loves me too. It feels like we are in some romantic comedy, two estranged friends reconnecting after a long time apart, only to find that they have feelings for each other. Though I guess our story is more tragedy than comedy.

It feels like anything is possible as long as I am with her. We'll figure out this timeline bullshit and the disappearance of my powers. I know we will, just like we were the ones to find out about Rachel.

Shit, Rachel. Chloe hasn't had the time to mourn her with this fucking storm screwing with our lives. Maybe we should go into town and hold a private memorial, just the two of us. I think Chloe would be touched.

So, all I have to do today, while I'm still here, is hang out with my parents and drop the news that Chloe and I are an item, hold a memorial for Rachel, and then find time to figure out what's going on with me. Glad I don't have much to do in my limited time here.

I want to let Chloe continue to sleep for a bit, but I decide to wake her so we can get started. She should be on my schedule anyway. I roll over to face my snoring bae and then move in for a wake-up kiss. Before I can reach her lips, Chloe suddenly grabs the back of my head and shoves me onto her mouth, kissing me strongly but sweetly.

"Booyah!" Chloe exclaims after about a minute of "waking" her up. Now I remember that Chloe likes to play this game where she pretends to be asleep, only to surprise me by quickly waking up. Like she did when she photobombed my selfie after our night at Blackwell.

"Well, that was certainly better than the last time you tried that." My smile seems permanently fixed onto my face. I must look like an idiot. "By the way, how did you know it was me? Come to think of it, you just kissed me without warning the last time too."

"I didn't know for sure that first time," Chloe admitted. "I just figured I get an amazing kiss if I guessed right. I didn't really think through what would happen otherwise. Though I did have a sneaking suspicion it was you since you are just so much hotter than her."

Of course she guessed. I'm surprised I would have thought it to be any differently. "Ha Ha. And the second?" I query.

"Well, you did try to kiss me first. Kinda a big giveaway there." Chloe also can't stop grinning. It looks a bit cartoonish, as if she has taken some really strong Botox that has frozen her face in this expression. Damn, is this what I look like?

"It's so good to see you," I say as I give my girlfriend another kiss, this time on the cheek. "It's been about a day or so, but I've missed you so much. I keep jumping to different timelines when I go to sleep in my dorm room. I have no idea when I'll be back, so we need to make the most of this. I did set an alarm on my phone to warn us when I'm going to wake up at Blackwell."

Chloe nods. "It must be tough for you. You don't have a crappy version of me hanging around to get you through the time without me."

"Other me can't be all that bad," I tease. "I mean, I know you find her insanely hot. I don't know if I can trust you around her. It's good I don't have such a temptation, though I did just come back from a timeline in which I was dating Victoria."

"What?!" Chloe pretends to be super jealous, at least I think she's pretending. "How could you be with that skank? I should find out if she is alive here so I can have the pleasure of killing her myself. No one gets in between me and my Maxipad."

"Phrasing?" I laugh. It's amazing how much I missed this dork.

Chloe blushes, perhaps now realizing her unfortunate choice of words. "You make me so jealous, honey, that I can't think straight. So, you didn't actually _do_ anything with her, did you?"

"I just went with the flow for a while," I respond. Chloe groans at my pun. I snicker. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. We did share a kiss. I had to do it as I was pretending to be her girlfriend. It was so awkward, though. You are the only one for me in any timeline."

"YOU KISSED HER?" Chloe yells. Maybe Chloe was really jealous, after all. "I unleash your gayness, and now you go and kiss any slut you can find?"

"I'm sorry," I protest. "I didn't think it would go there, and she just surprised me. I did blow my cover though as I sucked at kissing her back. She knew something was up after that."

Chloe calms herself down. "It's okay as long as you didn't blow or suck at anything else. I can forgive a forced kiss, even with a total skank. I might insist that you get tested for STDs, though. Eww, Victoria." Chloe smiles as she says that and holds my hand.

"If anyone should insist on that, it should be me. Remember your boy toy phase?" I pretend to be upset. "You didn't take advantage of other me, did you?"

"Well, yes," Chloe admitted. "I told her that I loaned you some money from my handicapped fund and now she owed me big time. Unfortunately, she didn't have any money, so I generously found other ways for her to pay her debt."

"You did none of that," I counter. "You probably were even more awkward than I am normally. That must be totally weird for your girlfriend to suddenly disappear, leaving behind an identical twin."

"You got me," Chloe concedes. "We just hung out with your parents yesterday and went shopping, as you can see."

I was so overwhelmed by seeing Chloe again that I did not even notice that I was now in proper pajamas, gray shorts with a black t-shirt bearing a skull and crossbones. Chloe is wearing black shorts with her white rock chick t-shirt.

"So, did you see mom?" Chloe asks apprehensively. "If so, how was she?"

"I did," I quickly say. "I try to go there everyday. Your mom is devastated, but I think she'll make it. I asked her what she would say to you if you were still there."

"Really?" Chloe perks up. "Well, what did she say? Give me details, Max."

"She said that she loves you very much," I answer. "She also said that you mean the world to her and that you are her hero. She admitted that you are her life, and she cares for you more than anything."

Chloe wipes a tear from her face as she struggles to keep herself from completely breaking down. After a while, Chloe collects herself. "It's not fair that I can't be there for her now. Shit, this sucks. Well, at least we still have your parents."

"Speaking of my parents, we should have some breakfast with them before going into town." I pick up my phone and start to type out at text to my folks.

"Sure, but then I get you all to myself. I'm a little possessive if you haven't figured that out already. Are you going to tell your parents about us? That didn't come up yesterday with other you."

"Yeah, I should tell them. Maybe it will be awkward with me leaving this timeline every now and then, but I don't want to keep this from them. I want to share my happiness with them, not hide it like I'm ashamed." I continue to smile at my girlfriend, and she seems relieved when I tell her that I want to share the news with my parents.

I press send on my text message and immediately get a reply from pop asking if we are free for breakfast at the motel diner in a few minutes. Apparently, they are staying here as well. Hopefully they aren't in an adjacent room or Chloe may be tempted to embarrass me again.

"My parents want us to have breakfast with them at the motel diner," I explain. "I'm surprised they are at this shithole. They could have afforded a better place."

"I think they are hella concerned about you," Chloe explains. "I mean, you were just in the middle of a deadly storm. They simply want to be close to their only child right now. But they are staying next door, so you may want to control yourself unlike a couple days ago."

I know I shouldn't encourage her, but I laugh anyway. "You do strange things to me, Chloe Price. I can't seem to keep my hands to myself." I then move in for a tickle attack, which catches my girlfriend by surprise. I use her shock to my advantage as I sit on top of her, pinning her arms down with my legs as I tickle the side of her stomach. I know her weak spots from our adventures together as kids.

"Stop … hehe … damn it … hehehe ... you probably … hehe … cheated," Chloe says in between fits of giggling. I take pity on her and let her go, but Chloe takes this opening to counter attack, sitting on my legs as she tickles the bottom of my feet. She also knows my weaknesses.

I am giggling so hard that I can't concentrate to rewind. I start to tickle her again as her side is unprotected as she focuses on tickling my feet. We both laugh uncontrollably until Chloe rolls off of me, pulling me close to her. I look up into her crystal blue eyes as she moves in for a kiss. I eagerly return the gesture, locking my lips to hers as I stroke her chemical-soaked hair. We stay together for a while, seeking to make up for lost time.

As we snuggle, I start whispering into Chloe's ear. "Vanilla nothing, chocolate nothing, cinnamon nothing."

Chloe turns over to me with a confused look on her face. "Please share whatever it is you are smoking."

"I'm just whispering sweet nothings to you," I happily respond.

Chloe smiles though I'm sure she didn't mean to encourage me. "You are such a dork. I love you despite that."

"You mean you love me because of that," I counter. I then let out a heavy sigh. "I guess we should go eat. Can't keep my folks waiting too much." I very reluctantly leave her embrace as we get dressed and ready for breakfast.

* * *

We make our way to the diner, and I'm busy trying to come up with the perfect words to explain what Chloe means to me. If I say it just right, maybe my parents will understand that this isn't just a phase or just a fling that happened because of the trauma we shared. I need them to know how serious I am about her.

Chloe is dressed in her distressed jeans with straps hung loosely by her hips and has a black t-shirt with a white doe. She's wearing her jacket but is without the beanie as I'm sure she's trying to class it up for my parents. I'm wearing skinny dark blue jeans with a pink t-shirt that has a skull on it and a gray hoodie. It looks like we are wearing off on each other. Pun totally intended.

We open the door to the diner, a bell ringing to announce our entrance to the employees. Pop perks up as he sees me and waves us over to a booth. Dad is wearing jeans and a red flannel long-sleeve shirt. He's really playing up the whole lumberjack vibe, and I'm sure it's intentional. Mom has on a simple black dress. Mom and dad are sitting next to each other, leaving the other side of the booth empty for Chloe and I. I was half expecting them to sit across from each other to awkwardly force us to choose which parent to sit next to.

"Hey, you guys," I say with a smile as we approach the booth. When do I tell them the news? Do I just get it over with? Do I try waiting for the perfect moment that may never come? Ugh, why isn't there a handbook for shit like this? "How to Perfectly Tell Your Parents That You Fell in Love with Your Childhood Best Friend After Getting Back with Her for a Week … And Oh, Yeah, I Have Time-Travel Powers." Probably not a best seller.

"Hey to you, sweetie," my mother greets me. "And good morning to you, Chloe. How did you two sleep last night? You know, we can get you another room so you don't have to share a bed."

"No, it's okay. It feels like we are having a sleepover like when we were kids, and it's nice to have Chloe around after everything that has happened. Though, maybe you'll feel differently about that once I tell you the news…" I say cryptically.

"Huh?" Dad asks. "You have news? Other than the whole surviving an apocalyptic storm?"

A waiter comes over to break this awkwardness. He takes our drink orders, and it's water and coffee all around. He tells us the water isn't free as they have to use bottled water due to the storm, but we all stick with our order.

I guess I chose to get this over with as soon as possible. Do I try to rewind if I screw this up? Can I even rewind anymore? Do I have to do this all by myself?

"Yes, I do... umm… How do I say this?" I stall a bit, trying to formulate the right words. Chloe holds my hand on the table, urging me to continue. My parents notice the gesture, and their expressions change as they begin to understand what I have to say. Chloe came to my rescue, it seems.

"Yes, well, you know how much Chloe meant to me when we were kids. How she was my best friend and how I felt we could do anything together. After we left for Seattle, you know how hard it was on me to leave her. I didn't make many friends there except for Kristen and Fernando. I wanted to get into Blackwell so badly, and we thought that was simply because of the amazing photography program there. But, now that I look on it, there was more than that. I wanted to be back in Arcadia Bay to be close to Chloe again. We have reconnected after I got back in town, and I learned that…. Chloe and I… well…"

I can tell that Chloe wants to jump in and explain how much she cares for me, but she bites her lip and holds back. She knows how important it is for me to do this myself. My parents also are remaining silent, waiting for me to get this off my chest.

"We are dating," I finally blurt out. "This is not a fling or a phase. I am totally smitten with her, and I can't imagine my life without her. I'm sorry I didn't say this yesterday, but I guess I was trying to find the perfect time and way to say all of this. Not sure this was it, but you guys need to know. Chloe also doesn't deserve to hide her feelings towards me."

A few seconds pass and my parents look at each other, mentally asking each other who will say something. Finally, my mother turns to me. "Your father and I love you so much, no matter what. We just want you to be happy, and we are glad that you have found someone who does that for you. We assume Chloe feels the same way?"

"HELLA YES!" Chloe loudly exclaims. "Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" Chloe looks back to me and mouths "sorry" for her outburst, but I can't blame her. I'm feeling the same way. Though only a "thousand times?" We'll have to talk about that.

My parents share a laugh. "Young love," my father smiles. "There's nothing quite like it."

Our waiter returns with our drinks and asks if we are ready to order. None of us have even looked at the menu, so we ask for some more time. The waiter grumbles and returns to the kitchen.

"So, you are okay with all of this?" I ask my parents. "I know it's a bit sudden, but I don't want you to feel that this is just some coping mechanism for this stupid storm. It's way more than that. I feel like we are bonded for life."

"Well, it seems like you have given this a lot of thought," my mother responds. "That alone convinces us that you know what you are doing and are not just caught up in the moment. We are glad that you felt that you could share this with us."

"Of course!" I exclaim. "I wasn't really afraid to tell you because I know you would be cool with it. But I was worried you would think that this was just a reaction to that fucked up … err … messed up storm. We felt this way before that tornado."

"That storm _was_ fucked up," dad adds. It's weird to hear him swear, though it's cool. "So, when's the wedding?"

Chloe is taking a sip of water as dad asks about the imminent wedding, and she spits it out over the table as she hears his question. "What?!"

"Just kidding," dad laughs. I know that pop loves to say things to get reactions, and he certainly got one here. "Though it sounds like Max is ready for that. 'I can't imagine my life without her' and 'we are bonded for life.' Looks like we'll be getting another daughter soon. Chloe Caulfield has a nice ring to it. Get it?"

I groan and smile at dad's pun. Chloe blushes at talk of marriage, though I can see her eyes light up as she contemplates married life with me. She is busily trying to clean up her mess with the napkins from the dispenser on the table. "I can see where she gets _that_ from. Thanks. Though I prefer Max Price."

"Max Price?" my mother questions. "That sounds terrible. Maybe Maxine Price. I do like your full first name, honey. I wish you would use it."

"Well, I think we are getting ahead of ourselves here," I interject, ignoring mom's quip about my name. "Unless Chloe secretly bought me a ring yesterday while we were shopping?"

"No, silly," Chloe quickly responds. "You were with me the whole time, remember? I would have to be a real ninja to be that sneaky."

"Well, a girl can hope, right?" I tease my girlfriend, giving her a kiss on the hand I'm holding before realizing that my parents are watching us. I blush at the display of affection in front of them. I haven't dated anyone before, so this is all very weird.

Mom decides to change the topic as she scans the menu. "Well, what's good to eat here? The Belgian waffle sounds tempting."

"Your daughter," Chloe answers, grinning. She then turns to me and whispers. "Couldn't help myself. Just rewind and squeeze my hand. You will have to tell me about your face though. It's fucking hilarious."

All color is drained from my face as if I turned on a black and white filter on a selfie. Dad responds the most violently, coughing up the coffee he was drinking. Is he grinning, though? Mom just sits there, unresponsive, probably wondering if she actually heard what she thought she heard.

I decide that I've seen enough, hoping that my rewind has come back. I should have told Chloe about my powers before going to breakfast. I raise my right hand and concentrate, and I soon feel the exhilarating rush of pushing time and space around as coffee returns to my dad's mouth and Chloe's grin slowly vanishes from her face. My mother starts (or really finishes) to talk and I release the rewind, making sure to squeeze Chloe's hand hard.

"The Belgian waffle sounds tempting," mom says, oblivious to Chloe's intentions.

Chloe grimaces at the hard squeeze and suppresses a laugh as she notices my face, still drained of color. "Nothing's good here. Just different levels of bad."

* * *

We ate a very mediocre meal together, and my parents tried to convince me to move back home to Seattle. They were worried about me missing a lot of class time and staying on track to graduate in May. To their credit, they welcomed Chloe to our house and said that she should move with me. We both said that we needed time to talk about it.

After breakfast, which my parents insisted on paying for even after Chloe tried to get the bill from the waiter, we parted ways with my folks and drove into town. Mom made me promise that I would call her if I needed anything and to be very careful in town. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of me going into a disaster area, but she knew that I needed to be there. Chloe heads to her house as she insisted on meeting David before doing anything else.

Chloe pauses before she reaches the city limits, and holds my hand. She must think that this is my first time seeing the devastation, and she probably is worried how I will take it considering this is all my fault. I smile at her touch and tell her that I will be fine as I have already seen this in another timeline.

We make our way through town, which appears very similar to the other bay I drove through yesterday (last night?). Again, there does not seem to be any effort to rebuild the town after it was decimated by that awful storm.

It does feel good to be in the passenger seat of Chloe's truck again with her at her rightful place at the wheel. I remember making this drive from Blackwell without her and wishing I had her by my side. Now that I do have her, Joyce is gone. It doesn't seem fair.

I was surprised at how insistent Chloe was on seeing David, considering she said that she wanted me all to herself for the rest of the day. It seems that Joyce's death has softened her to her mother's widow.

We reach 44 Cedar Avenue, the site of so many adventures on the high seas for Chloe and me. The roof is shorn off the half-painted house, exposing it to the elements. A motorboat is lodged in Chloe's room with its engine close to where Chloe would have slept. Parts of the house are collapsed in on itself, and I wonder if it's even safe to go inside.

David's car is parked in the driveway, and we see him standing next to it as we approach. Chloe pulls in next to him and turns off the truck's engine. She gets out and walks over to her stepfather. Chloe then gives him a hug. "Hey, step ass. It's actually good to see you. How are you?"

David gives Chloe a weary smile, and it is obvious that he is barely holding it together. "I'll make it through. I'm still trying to figure out how. I'm so glad that you made it out in one piece. I don't know what I would do if I lost you both."

I can tell David's words move Chloe, even though she is trying to hide it from him as she doesn't fully trust him and doesn't want to appear vulnerable. Chloe then nods at me and waves me over. "You remember Max, right? Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that she's my girlfriend."

David's expression doesn't change. "I knew that already. You told me when I met her that she was a friend. And she's a girl. Why are you…" David then pauses as Chloe's statement sinks in. "Oh."

"Oh?" Chloe playfully mimics. "That's all you have to say?"

"Sorry, but this is news to me. Joyce said she suspected you had a thing for that Rachel Amber girl, but I wasn't sure with all the boys you saw. I'm happy that you found someone, and I respect the hell out of Max as she's a fine young lady. I just…"

"You just what?" Chloe defensively asks. Her fuse with David still seems to be short. I'm not sure if I should step in as a peacemaker.

"Need some time to think about this. Look, I'm not sure if this is right as that just seems unnatural…" David stammers, clearly conflicted. It makes sense that he would have a harder time accepting two women together after his time in the "don't ask, don't tell" military.

"What?! There's _nothing_ in this universe more right than me with her, asshole. God, this was such a big mistake. I shouldn't have felt sorry for you because of mom. You are still a dick." Chloe storms off to her truck, motioning me to join her.

"Chloe!" I can't wait anymore to let them resolve this themselves. "Don't do this. David cares for you, and he's trying. Look, us being a thing is a lot of news to give him right now."

"No, not you too!" Chloe yells. "Why do you side with him? He's just a fucking prick who happened to fool my mom into marrying him. He's not family, not anymore."

Chloe's outburst wounds David, who can no longer hold back the tears he was struggling to keep hidden. "You are right. I have no family." David slumps over next to his car. I move to comfort him, holding him as he sobs.

"Serves you right, step douche." Chloe responds, happily lapping up David's misery. I glare at her, wondering how she can be so callous. Chloe continues her assault, her voice dripping in sarcasm. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't call you that anymore. You are now just a douche."

"Chloe, why are you being like this?" I ask, dumbfounded. "You both just lost Joyce. You should be supporting each other, not getting into petty arguments."

"Petty? Being pissed at someone shaming our relationship is petty? Well, fuck you, Max. Just go back to abandoning me like everyone else does." Chloe turns on the ignition to her truck and peels out of the driveway, barreling down Cedar Avenue.

"Looks like you are the one leaving me," I wistfully sigh as her truck disappears.

* * *

David and I sit together in his car, waiting for Chloe to cool off and come back. It's been some time, and I'm tempted to text her. I decide to give her some more time to realize what an ass she's been. Besides, I don't want to give in or apologize because I did absolutely nothing wrong.

David seems to read my thoughts. "Arguments with someone you are dating are terrible. Neither of you wants to give in, even if you realize that you should have handled things differently. Look, let me try to call her and say I'm sorry. I should have been more supportive."

"You did nothing wrong though," I counter. "It's too much to handle right now, so I understand. Besides, you didn't say we would burn in hell or anything. You just said you needed some time. Don't give into her just because she's being petulant. I really hate it when she gets like that."

"Me too, but that's Chloe for you," David says. "I'm going to call her. Sometimes, you have to do the wrong things for the right reasons."

David then calls Chloe, and to our surprise, she picks up on the first ring as if she was waiting for a call for some time now. "Hey. Look, I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier…"

I strain to hear Chloe on the other end, but I can't make out what she's saying. Instead, I start to imagine what she would tell David.

 _Sorry that I was such a bitch. Max is hella right, as always. We need each other right now._

"I know," David continues. "We don't have to be enemies any…"

 _I'm going to pretend that I'm still angry at you and interrupt so that I can feel justified for blowing up earlier. But you are right, we shouldn't hate each other._

"I was wrong to not be as supportive of you and Max as possible. I kinda suck at this whole parent thing if you didn't notice."

 _And I was wrong for losing my cool. I was especially wrong for getting angry at the sweetest, loveliest woman in the world. I'll need to make it up to her by giving her amazing snuggles tonight. No, not that you perv._

"Are you coming back here? I have someone that really misses you but is afraid to talk to you because she doesn't want to give in. Okay, one sec." David hands me his phone. "Your girlfriend would like to speak to you."

I take the phone and a deep breath before placing it to my ear. I don't want our first argument to continue. "Realize you were wrong and I'm always right yet?" I playfully ask, hoping she realizes I am not angry by my tone.

"Yeah, sorry," Chloe mournfully says. She sounds so dejected. "I shouldn't have said some of those things earlier. I just…"

I wait for Chloe to collect her thoughts and stop myself from interrupting her. Chloe eventually continues. "I just have a hard time with you defending others and not me. I know I overreacted, but I just wanted you to back me up. It really hurt when you didn't. I was reminded of you leaving me by the lighthouse, choosing the town instead of me. I know that's not fair because I almost begged you to do it, but that's how my fucked up mind works. You mean everything to me, so it just stings when you choose someone else over me."

Now I feel absolutely terrible. Of course Chloe would feel that way. She's only been super clingy to me ever since we reconnected last Monday, and I ultimately left her alone, just like everyone else in her life. It doesn't help that I keep leaving her behind in this timeline either. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to feel that way. I know this fucked up situation has been really hard on you and that I'm not there for you all the time like I should be. Please forgive me." So much for standing my ground and refusing to apologize. I just need my girlfriend back and happy.

"It's okay. You can't control your timeline jumps. The important thing is you are here now. I'm on my way back so that we don't have to miss another moment together. I love you so much it hurts." The phone line goes dead as she ends the call.

* * *

Chloe returns after a few minutes, and we all chat by David's car for a while. David says that he was getting a room in our motel as he is tired of sleeping in his car. We eventually part ways as Chloe and I had some business to take care of.

My beautiful girlfriend drives towards American Rust, Rachel's resting place. I'm sad that I was never able to meet Chloe's rescuer, the person who saved my love's life. I'm glad that Chloe had someone after I left her for Seattle all those years ago, and it sounds like Rachel was an extraordinary person. I'm sure I would have hit it off with her judging by how close Chloe felt to her.

What was Rachel like? Was she really so popular, able to blend in with whatever group she was around? Or is Victoria from my timeline right? Did everyone just say nice things because they knew she was dead? Was she a kind soul that took the time to talk to anyone, like Samuel? Or was she a self-absorbed brat that didn't really care about others, like Victoria? Or both?

I do feel like Rachel was guiding us to the truth last week. It felt like her spirit wanted justice for her murder and the truth to be revealed. I hope that she has found some peace even with my powers screwing with the universe.

We get close to the junkyard, which is somehow even more in disarray than when we were last here on Thursday night. When Jefferson killed Chloe and drugged me. Memories of that night return to me like a relapse of an illness, unexpected and unwanted. I can feel the needle puncture the skin on my neck and the drugs start to take effect, dulling my senses. I try to warn Chloe, only to see her turn around to meet a bullet. I'm powerless against Jefferson. I black out with him standing over me and the corpse of my best friend. I then can only see the burning film of a photograph like I'm standing on the edge of a photo jump.

* * *

"Max? Max, wake up!" Chloe has my head in her lap as she shakes me. "This is bullshit. Not this again."

I groggily groan and open my eyes to the blue-haired woman holding me. "I'm back. Sorry about that. Umm… unpleasant memories, not a vision."

"Want to talk about it?" Chloe asks, her voice full of concern.

I raise my head out of her lap and get my bearings. We are in her truck, parked outside of the junkyard. Instead of the piles of debris, American Rust is now just coated with junk, obscuring any walkway that existed before the tornado. In addition to the rusted appliances and abandoned vehicles, the junkyard now contains some remnants from the storm, such as beached whales and fishing boats now litter the area.

"Well, being here reminded me of the night of the vortex club party," I begin. "You don't remember this, but we initially went back here after receiving a text from Nathan's phone saying he was going to remove Rachel's body to get rid of the evidence. We came back to her grave, only to find her still here. Then Jefferson ambushed me with a drug that knocked me out. I tried to warn you, but you turned around only to get shot in the head by that motherfucker. Just now, it felt like I was reliving that awful night."

"God, that sucks. I can't imagine what that was like for you." Chloe then holds me, trying to comfort me. "I'm here now, and I'm never leaving you."

I force a smile. "Thanks, I know. Even when I'm in another timeline, I know you are there for me."

"So, what were you thinking of doing here?" Chloe asks as she tries to get me to think of something else. I appreciate the effort as I would rather forget that time with Jefferson. It didn't really happen if I'm the only one who remembers it, right?

"Well, I figured we would go to her burial site and say a few things. I would have brought flowers, but obviously there's no florist open in the area."

Chloe smiles and pulls out a bouquet of pink lilies. "I took care of that when I stormed off earlier."

"Where did you get those?" I reply, astonished that she could find some flowers given the state of the town.

"Best if you didn't know," Chloe says cryptically. "Let's just say their former owner won't miss them. We should try to make our way to Rachel."

"The junkyard doesn't look safe. I'm not sure if we can even walk through all of that without getting hurt." I am really worried that Chloe doesn't care about the risks and wants to go anyway.

Sure enough, Chloe shakes her head. "No, we can do this, Max. You have the power. I'll go first, and if I get attacked by a trash compactor monster, just rewind and warn me. Unless you are _into_ that sort of thing."

"Eww, no," I say in disgust. I then look firmly into her eyes, holding her gaze so she knows that I'm serious. "We shouldn't be relying on my power like this. Yesterday, for some reason, I couldn't rewind. What happens if you get hurt and I can't rewind? No one can help you. I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

"You lost your power yesterday? Where were you?" Chloe's tone shifts from playful to investigative.

"I was in my dorm room," I answer. "I made the decision to use my butterfly photo to save you in the bathroom as that would keep me with you instead of anchored in a timeline in which you are in a coffin. I couldn't use my photo jump. I then tried a regular rewind and nothing. I felt so empty."

Chloe smiles, and a tear travels down her face in opposition to her expression. "You want to be with me forever? You would leave all of your friends at Blackhell and your life as a student in a prestigious photography program? You would abandon a timeline in which you are a normal girl without any bullshit time powers? Just for me?"

I can only respond with a nod. Chloe softly kisses my forehead and whispers that she loves me.

After a while, my girlfriend returns to the matter at hand. "Maybe your power just doesn't work in that timeline. Have you tried using it before at school? I know it works here as you used it a couple times with me. Perhaps going back and letting me die prevented your power from being unleashed in the first place? Maybe you can use it here because this body still has powers?"

I stop to think. Ever since that Friday at the lighthouse, I have been avoiding using my powers because I was scared that I would cause another storm. Only Chloe was able to get me to use them again. I haven't tried rewinding in the Blackwell timeline until last night. Maybe she's right. Maybe I do have my powers here, just like I'm used to. "That was the only time that I tried using my powers in that timeline. I do have them here."

A thought occurs to me. The butterfly photo still exists here! Maybe I can do what I wanted to do yesterday. I anxiously open my camera bag, looking for the photo. Chloe looks on, wondering what I'm doing. I find the photo, torn into small pieces.

"Fuck!" I yell. "What the hell do you have against me, universe! I've only tried to do the right thing and help others with my powers, yet you find it fucking hilarious to keep shitting on me. Fuck you!"

I break down and start sobbing. The finality of those torn up photo pieces hits me. I'm never going to have a normal life with Chloe. We can't move in together. I can't propose to her. We can't get married. We can't have kids. I can't be with her unless I happen to get thrown back into this timeline. In the meantime, she's with a version of me who probably thinks of Chloe as nothing more than a friend.

Chloe sees the pieces in my hands and her face darkens. She hugs me and somehow doesn't join me in sobbing even though she must feel as awful as I do right now. "I'm going to treasure every moment that I'm with you, Max Caulfield. We may only have moments now, but I still feel incredibly lucky that I have that much with you, especially after you left me by the lighthouse. I never thought that I would be this deliriously happy as I have felt these last few days. Whether we have one hour more together or a lifetime, I'm always going to be grateful that you are part of my life."

My girlfriend's heartfelt words stop the flow of tears from my puffy red eyes. I stare at her lovely face, her expression one of determination and love. She is so strong when I'm at my weakest. "I love you more than there are grains of sand on the beach."

Chloe leads me out of the truck and to the boundary of the junkyard. She lays down the flowers at our feet. Chloe's concern for me seems to have changed her mind about venturing into the junkyard to find a gravesite that may no longer be there. "Rachel, wherever you are, I miss you so much. I wish you could have met my girlfriend, Max. You probably felt like you have with how much I would talk about her. You two would have loved each other. She's kind, sweet, and beautiful, just like you. She's so into photography, and I'm sure you two could have nerded out over that. You didn't deserve what happened to you, just like Max doesn't deserve all this shit she's being forced to eat. We got justice for you. Thanks for guiding us along the way and to each other. I will never forget you, Rachel Dawn Amber."

I hold my bae as she finishes, kissing her cheek. Chloe relaxes in my embrace as I speak. "I don't know you, but I have felt your presence throughout this past week. I wish I could have gotten to meet you and personally thank you for saving the love of my life. I'm sorry she was a bit clingy. That was my fault for leaving her. I don't know you, but I love you. Thanks for everything."

We stand there together, wondering if Rachel is looking down on us right now. I feel so close to my blue-haired angel now, holding her near to me as we watch the sun slip past the horizon and cover the junkyard in darkness. The last time I was here, I lost everything. I thought I had done it again today, but Chloe will always be with me, no matter where I am.

I could swear I saw a ghostly doe at the edge of the woods near the junkyard looking at us while we said our goodbyes, but when I get Chloe's attention, the doe disappears. I've seen this doe before while in the junkyard during that damn bottle hunt. I wonder what that's all about.

The alarm on my phone rings, warning me that my time with my love is about to end. I tell Chloe that I'm going to wake up soon and leave. She smiles and without saying a word, gives me a deep kiss that seems to say that this may be goodbye, even for a while, but she will always be ready for my return.

I smile back at her, and I hear a buzz.

* * *

 _ **Monday, October 14, 2013**_

 _So, I'm back here. Again._

 _I keep staring at this butterfly photo. It's so worthless to me now, but I can't seem to stop looking at it, hoping that somehow my powers will come back. They never do._

 _I'm not sure how long I've been trying to get back to her. It must have been a while because by the time I think to check my phone, classes are already over. Oh well._

 _I spend the rest of the day in my room as I don't want to be around anyone. It feels so awful to have Chloe back only to have her ripped away from me. It's just fitting that my powers are gone when I want something from them. They have taken so much from me. Why can't I have something in return?_

 _Warren tried to come over, but I brushed him off by saying that I wasn't feeling well. I know he's just being a good friend. I just can't do it today._

 _Where am I going to end up tonight? If I keep ending up in timelines I created through a photo jump, maybe I'll be in San Francisco as a successful photographer, though Chloe surely died in the storm in that timeline as she was on the beach. Maybe I'll find myself in the Two Whales with Joyce, Frank, and Warren if we somehow survived the storm. Not bad places to be._

 _The only place I don't want to be is that damn Dark Room. I don't know if I can take more of that shit. Thankfully, I guess, I should already be dead in all of those timelines, so I shouldn't be going there._

 _It would probably be too much to hope that I'll end up with Chloe again. I want the smell of cigarette smoke and the feel of her torn jeans under my hands. I want to see her mischievous grin again and that way she swoons over me when she thinks I'm not paying attention. I want her to be petulant and stubborn even though that pisses me off as that would mean I'm with her. The universe isn't that kind. Shit, I'd settle for Victoria at this point._

I put the pen down as the sun escapes the horizon and darkens my room. It's still a bit early, but I decide to go to bed early as the possibility of being reunited with my girlfriend is too tempting. Maybe I'll get some more time with her this way.

I turn in for the night and quickly find myself lost to my fatigue.

* * *

I awaken, though my eyes remain closed. Opening them feels so difficult as I am really groggy. Did this body not get any sleep?

Eww, something smells like pee. The stench is almost overwhelming, and I struggle to ignore it as I try to clear my head and get my bearings.

I then notice that I can't move my arms or legs. A sense of dread suffocates me, and I start to panic. I try to tell myself that this isn't possible, that I should be dead and can't be here. There must be some other explanation.

I struggle to move and open my eyes, even though I fear what I may find once I do. Eventually, through sheer willpower, I am able to lift my eyelids just enough so that I can make out where I am. At first, I am blinded by a bright light, and I instinctively close my eyes again. I then begin the difficult process of willing them open again, and my eyes adjust to the light.

I recoil in horror as the first thing I see is my former teacher leering over me with a camera. Jefferson whispers to me in a soothing voice. "Oh, hello there, Max. Is it you again? Make sure you don't move so I can take this shot. You wouldn't want to fuck this up."

Panic overcomes me, and I pass out from exhaustion as I hear the click of Jefferson's camera.

 **A/N:**

This chapter was about double my other ones, but it's hard to stop writing about Max and Chloe. Long chapter, but short author's note.

Next couple chapters will be a bit heavier than what's been in the story so far. I edited the last four chapters to add horizontal lines to act as time breaks. Somehow, what I was using before got lost in the process of publishing, so those chapters should be a little more readable now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 **A/N: As a Jefferson chapter, be warned that this is going to be pretty dark as there is some violence, torture, and humiliation.**

I eventually wake up, this time free of the drug-induced grogginess from before. I quickly open my eyes and see myself in the Dark Room, bound to that fucking chair. I turn my head and notice Victoria, still alive, but also bound on the floor. She is currently passed out, though I can't tell if it's because she is drugged. The stench of urine from before returns to me, and I notice that I'm the culprit. Apparently, I haven't moved from this spot in some time.

No, no, no. I can't be here again. I should be dead in every timeline that ended up in this fucking room. I don't know if I can take this crap again. I only got through it the first time because I kept telling myself that it didn't _really_ happen and because I was Chloe's only hope for coming back to life. I want to believe that this is some fucked up nightmare, but I know better. I close my eyes and imagine Chloe. I can see her trademark smirk, her short blue hair. I need to survive this for her. Nothing else matters.

The Dark Room hasn't changed since the last time I've been here. A heavenly white backdrop is perversely behind me as I am duct taped to a chair. In front of me, there's a modern white couch and a tray with wheels bearing Frank's drugs that is out of reach. Some metal cabinets rest along the wall to my left, leading to a desk with a computer. The metal cabinets remind me of the halls of Blackwell, lined with lockers. Aside from the smell, the Dark Room is so sterile, so clean, which contrasts strongly with the depravity that occurs here. I think I can smell the faint scent of some sort of all-purpose cleaner, but it's hard to make it out over the stench I am sitting in.

Some soft jazz comes from Jefferson's apocalyptic entertainment system, and the dissonance of the comforting music and this screwed up situation doesn't escape me. On a wall to the right is a newly framed black and white photograph of me from a shoot with Jefferson that I don't remember. I appear out of it in the photo, and I'm lying on the ground in a fetal position, covered in shadow. There's no fight in my expression, just fear. That scares me more than anything else in this room. How could I let myself lose hope?

Click. Click. Click. Jefferson's mouse reminds me of his camera, the instrument of so much pain to so many. His rhythmic tapping is hypnotic, and I'm sure that I would fall asleep if I was still drugged. My unburnt journal rests on his desk next to a red binder notated "Max." I don't see a matching Victoria one. The famous photographer notices me as I struggle against my restraints. "Hey, Max. Good to see you. I trust you are feeling more like yourself now?"

I open my mouth to respond, but forming words is difficult as my throat is parched. I feel very drained and dehydrated. Jefferson notices this, and he gets a bottle of water from his supply pantry in the other room. He opens the bottle and brings it to my lips, urging me to drink. I don't want anything from this motherfucker, but I can't help myself. I drink the water greedily and start to choke.

Jefferson immediately takes the bottle back and pats me on the back to encourage my body to expel the excess water. I shudder at his touch, but I manage to stop choking. "There, there," Jefferson coos as he strokes my face.

"Fuck you," I say as I spit at him, and my saliva lands squarely on his jaw. I'm already tired of his act, pretending to care about me.

"YOU STUPID BITCH!" Jefferson yells as he wipes his face clean, clearly surprised by my insolence. He then quickly collects himself and smiles. "Sorry about that, Max. I'm not used to this version of you. I got a little carried away, though I'm glad to see you are back. Now, I can figure this all out."

"Figure what out? That you are fucking insane? Someone is going to be looking for me soon. You should have killed me earlier," I snarl at him.

"I'm perfectly sane, Max," Jefferson grins. "I know _exactly_ what I'm doing. After Friday's storm, you are presumed dead after your camera bag was found close to what remains of the dormitories. No one is going to come looking for you, especially not here. You might as well accept the way things are. Besides, I can't kill someone with a gift."

"What the fuck are you talking about, asshole?" I demand. David still is out there, looking for Chloe and me. He wouldn't give up just because a camera bag without a body was found. I need to hold out for a while until he gets here.

"Such language, Max," Jefferson scolds me, shaking his head. "I thought I taught you better than that. Anyway, now is the time for you to show me your gift. I've been thinking about the perfect way to do this, and I've figured it out. That did take a while, but I'm resourceful."

The photographer moves over to Victoria and wakes her up. The blonde is startled, and she turns to see me. I can see the desperation in her eyes, the abject terror. "Max is awake?" Victoria's voice quivers. "Oh god, no. Please don't do this, Mr. Jefferson. There's got to be another way." Tears begin to form in the Queen Bee's eyes. I'm reminded of the last time I spoke to her in this place when she begged me to find a way out of here. I failed her then as Jefferson eventually killed her.

"I'm sorry, Victoria," Jefferson says with some regret, though I'm sure it's not genuine. "This has to be done. Don't worry though, Max is here for you."

Jefferson drags Victoria in front of me, then positions her to where she is on her knees facing me. I can see tears streaming freely down her face. "Please. You don't have to do this!" Victoria pleads.

Jefferson smiles as he pulls out his gun, aiming for the back of Victoria's skull, execution style. I struggle mightily against my bonds, but they don't budge. "STOP THIS! I'll do whatever you want."

"Yes, you will," Jefferson responds as he pulls the trigger. The bullet explodes through Victoria's head, killing her instantly. Her blood showers over me in some sort of twisted baptism, coating me as I helplessly squirm in the chair.

"What the fuck?!" That's all I can manage to say.

"Now, Max," Jefferson begins, a satisfied smile tattooed on his face. "Victoria's fate rests in your hands. You are the only one who can save her. All you have to do is rewind and thank me for killing Chloe."

"Rewind?" I ask, confused. How the hell does he know about that? What did other me say to him while I was gone? I guess she had to say anything to keep Victoria and me alive. "I can't do that. It's impossible."

Jefferson sighs. "Not for you, Max. You need to help your friend soon though. The clock is ticking. Soon you won't be able to help at all, and Victoria's death will be on your hands. Can you live with yourself knowing that you could have saved someone but did nothing?"

Little does he know that I've been dealing with that for the past several days. What do I do? If I bend, Jefferson will have proof of my powers. If I don't, Victoria is dead. I know that Jefferson is intending to kill her anyway, so maybe it's for the best if I do nothing. Then again, I also know David is looking for this bunker, and I should keep Victoria alive so she can be rescued too. Can I really just stand by and do nothing again?

I frown and open my right hand as I concentrate on moving time backwards, and I feel a rush as the world starts moving. The blood that's not on me begins retreating into a smaller pool and then travels upwards towards Victoria's head. Victoria's lifeforce is vacuumed into the exit wound on her forehead, which disappears along with the bullet. The back of Victoria's skull collects the pieces that had flown away from the impact of the bullet as the bullet travels out of her. I can see the life return to Victoria's eyes as I notice the terrified expression on her face right before she died. The bullet returns to the chamber with the barrel of the gun giving off a bright flash. Jefferson's sadistic smile slowly recedes from his face. I keep rewinding until I see Victoria's mouth move.

"You don't have to do this," Victoria pleads, though clearly less emphatically now.

I look up at Jefferson, his gun aimed at the back of Victoria's head. I am still coated with her blood as I keep everything on me as I rewind. "Look at me, I'm covered in her blood! Please stop."

Jefferson smiles. "Tell me the magic phrase and I will or your friend will lose some more blood. That can't be good for her. She's already looking so pale."

"Thanks for killing Chloe!" I yell, defeated.

Jefferson chuckles as he lowers the weapon. "You are welcome, Max. Good girl. Thank you for showing me your gift. I promise no harm will come to Victoria as long as you cooperate."

Victoria slumps over, the adrenaline of her near death no longer keeping her awake. It looks like she's not doing well. I guess she really did lose the blood that wasn't returned to her. That's so fucked up. It would take a pyscho to get my power to work this way.

"You are a fucking monster!" I scream. "She did nothing to you!"

"And I technically did nothing to her," Jefferson shrugs. "Besides, she tried to blackmail me earlier. She's not entirely innocent."

"How? How did you know about my powers?" I ask my former teacher. I'm at a loss for how this is even possible. Jefferson never gave any indication that he knew about my powers, and he was genuinely surprised when I warned David to watch out for Jefferson before David turned the corner into the Dark Room.

"You didn't cover your tracks very well," Jefferson shrugs. "When you left on Friday, you seemed an entirely different person, more like that chickenshit Max from the previous week. All your fight left you, and you were so pathetic with that doe-eyed look that my other models have. You had no idea why you were here, and you kept asking about Chloe. Naturally, I was curious, so I read your diary. Sorry, I did say no one was going to read it, but I had to know what happened to you last week."

Jefferson picks up the bottle of water and pours it over me, washing some of the blood off of me. He gets a rag and starts gently wiping my face. I turn my head away from him, but I can't get away.

Jefferson continues to clean my face. The act of cleaning me feels so intimate that I hate Jefferson for doing so even though part of me is glad to be free of Victoria's blood. "It's funny that you wouldn't talk about what you did at the train tracks in case your diary fell into the wrong hands, but you were perfectly happy to confess your rewind powers. Of course, I didn't believe you at first. I thought you lost it, that the stress of Blackwell was too much for you."

I glare at Jefferson. I can't do much more than that at this point. How am I getting out of this one? I guess I just wait until I wake up. I tell myself to just focus on Chloe. She's out there, somewhere, waiting for me. Be strong for her. She needs me.

Jefferson finishes cleaning my face, and he takes a seat on the couch. "But I kept thinking about last week and how much you have changed. That didn't feel like you just going insane. I carefully checked the surveillance videos, trying to notice any detail that could reveal your secret. That's when I saw what looks like you teleporting around in the barn. Then I thought back to Tuesday. You were in class when Kate went onto the roof, but somehow you were the only one who made it up there. David Madsen had a head start on you, but you still managed to outrace him to the roof. How was that possible?"

"I'm a fast runner, dick," I angrily reply.

Jefferson laughs. "Of course you are. You can cheat. Anyway, you can say I was suspicious then that maybe, just maybe, you were actually telling the truth. If you weren't insane, why would you write all of that in your diary if it wasn't the truth? And with you being so different on Friday, it seemed to match your photo jump power. I needed some way to test you, but how do you test a time-travel superpower? I mean, it's really hard to tell if you ever used it, and then there's the problem of getting you to rewind voluntarily."

"Congratulations asshole, you figured it out," I say sarcastically.

"I did, didn't I? Now we literally have all the time in the world." Jefferson goes to his computer and looks at something that I can't make out. He then writes something down on a piece of paper and brings it to me. A string of two digit numbers? What the hell?

"Please memorize these numbers and use that photo," Jefferson points to my framed portrait on the wall. "Please tell me those numbers after you do. I will know if you don't give them to me exactly like that, so take your… time. Sorry, couldn't resist."

Jefferson then goes to check on Victoria, taking her pulse. He silently nods to himself and puts her on the couch, still bound. Jefferson then whistles to himself as he leaves the Dark Room. I can hear the bunker door open and close.

I try to wake Victoria to see if she can get loose, but she's too out of it. Fuck, I'm stuck in this damn chair again. I look at the numbers Jefferson gave me. 38-14-08-17-44-01-15-10. At this point, with all of the digicodes and combination locks that I've had to solve last week, I'm pretty good at memorizing random numbers. I easily commit them to memory.

Do I travel through that photo on the wall? It sounds like Jefferson has already thought about it, so I doubt I could get anything useful out of it. Besides, fuck him. I'm not going to do something he suggests as I am tired of being manipulated by him. Sorry, Victoria, but something could go seriously wrong if he abuses my powers. I'll pretend that I've already did what he asked as he has no way of knowing what alternate universe Jefferson has.

Left with nothing to do, I sit in silence and wince due to the tight restraints.

* * *

I'm not sure how much time passes before Jefferson returns. He appears annoyed. "Max, why didn't you deliver those numbers? You are disappointing me. Do you need more motivation?"

"I already gave you your numbers, you dumb motherfucker," I lie. "Though I guess I shouldn't expect your limited mind to comprehend time travel. When I use my photo power, I create an alternate timeline, but unfortunately for your stupid ass, you continue to exist here in this timeline. So, another you has the numbers, but you never will. I hope other you is much smarter than this lame version."

"You are lying," Jefferson accuses me. "If that was true, you wouldn't have any knowledge of going through a photo. You would be back to that poor, pathetic version of you from the beginning of the week while you would be in the alternate timeline with the version of me that had the numbers in the past. Don't make me do something that you will regret, Max." Jefferson moves close to the chair, glaring over me.

Fuck, he caught on. Do I continue this bluff? Or do I submit?

Screw him. "I eventually return to the timeline I left. How do you think I returned back to this damn room in the first place? You seriously don't know anything. It's beginning to sound like your brilliant evil plan is as shoddy as your photography."

"You dumb bitch!" Jefferson yells. "You have no respect for those with talent, with vision. You are just an ameteur too afraid to show the world your work. Not that I blame you, given your mediocre selfies. You are such a waste."

It looks like I'm pushing some buttons. Good. I smile at my captor. "Didn't my esteemed photography teacher once say that what separates an artist from an ametuer is showing your work to the world?" I say with venom. "Here you are, taking sick, twisted photos of helpless women, but you are too afraid to show your true work to the world. You know that everyone would judge you to be the sick fuck that you are. You know that they would find your work to be vile and repulsive and unworthy of anything other than the garbage can."

"YOU FUCKING CUNT!" Jefferson screams as he gives me a hard slap across the face. He is livid, and I delight in provoking him so even though my face badly stings and blood trickles down out of my nose, which may be broken. "You have no idea what a true artist is. Oh, you had potential, but you chose to squander it. I could have taught you so much, Max. Guess it was a mistake keeping you and Victoria alive, but it's one that can be easily corrected."

"You won't kill us," I confidently respond. "You need me, and I need Victoria or I'm not doing shit for you." Victoria stirs at Jefferson's outburst and starts to awaken.

Jefferson's demeanor noticeably shifts as he calms himself. "You are absolutely right, Max," Jefferson tells me in a soothing, soft voice. "Again, sorry about that. It seems you have a way of making me overreact, though I'll get better in time. Now, use your photo power in front of me and give me those numbers. Once you come back, I'll let you get up and relieve yourself. I'm sure that's not pleasant as the smell certainly isn't."

"I told you, I already gave you those numbers," I caustically reply. Victoria is looking at me with a mix of fear, fascination, and admiration.

"Then do it again," Jefferson coolly states. "You aren't wasting my time."

"First, give Victoria some food and water," I demand. "Remember, she's the only reason I'm doing anything for you."

"You aren't in a position to be making demands, but I'll bite, this one time, in the interest of maintaining our wonderful working relationship." Jefferson retrieves a can of baked beans and another bottle of water from his supplies, and he hands them to the blonde after opening both.

Victoria weakly takes the bottle and eagerly drinks the water, almost choking as she quickly empties the bottle. Then, after Jefferson gives her the can, she awkwardly eats some beans with her hands as Jefferson decided not to give her a fork. Victoria struggles to do any of this with how weak she is, and her bound wrists makes feeding herself difficult. She drops the can several times, and Jefferson picks it up and puts it back into her hands each time.

"Now that's taken care of, let's return to business," Jefferson smiles at me. "Go through that photo, Max. By the way, I knew you were lying before. I would have given you a message if you actually did use your powers. Seeing as you haven't given me one, you clearly didn't do as I asked. You just failed that test, Max. You are indeed a poor student."

"Oh, yeah, here's your message," I say as I flip him the bird. I can't move my hands, so the best I can do is extend only my middle finger as I raise my hand as much as the restraints will allow, which isn't far.

"You are such a child," Jefferson dismissively replies. "Now go before you make me hurt Victoria."

I inwardly sigh. I guess I don't have much choice if I don't want to see Victoria get hurt in this timeline. I really hope David is looking for us as I don't see any other way out of this mess. I doubt I will get anything that could help me escape from this photo as I seem drugged. I turn my head to face my portrait and focus. I can hear Jefferson's soft voice giving me instructions on how to pose for the shot and the world around me goes white.

* * *

I come to, lying on the floor with my hands bound in front of me. A click, then a flash of light briefly covers me. Jefferson walks over to me and bends over. "My apologies if this is the first time." My former teacher then kicks me in the side. "Awake up, Max."

I groan as pain shoots up from my ribs. I can't think very clearly as Frank's drugs course through my system, but the kick does make me a bit more alert. Bastard.

"Hey there, asshole," I groggily say. At least, that's what I meant to say. I'm not sure how it ended up coming out.

Apparently, Jefferson got the message as he laughs. "Good to see you, Max. I trust you had a good trip. Now, the numbers if you would be so kind."

I look around the room. It's the Dark Room just as I had left it except Victoria is gagged on the couch and she is far more alert. How far back did I just go? What day is it now? I'm sure I won't be getting any answers. I desperately look for another photo of me that I can piggyback into, but there's none to be found. It's so hard to focus.

I sigh and slowly give Jefferson his precious numbers, making sure to take my time to pronounce each one. I repeat the numbers given to me except that I change 17 to 25. Let's see what these are for and how he'll know if they are incorrect.

Jefferson smiles. "We shall see if those are correct. Here's the message: 'Chromatic Abberation.' Please repeat it, Max, so I know you have it."

I repeat the message. He must have some code so that I don't know what messages I am passing along. I'm too messed up to give this much thought on what it could mean.

Jefferson then sits at his computer and stares at me as if waiting for something. I guess he is trying to see how long it takes for me to leave with my power. A few moments pass and the Dark Room becomes white again.

* * *

I awaken bound on that chair, and I see Victoria laying down on the couch. Everything appears the way I left it a few moments ago except that Victoria is noticeably more alert but gagged. Jefferson stands next to me, closely examining my face. He must have noticed me "wake up" from the photo jump.

Before I can say anything, Jefferson shakes his head. "You were so close, Max. If you just didn't try changing that 17 to a 25, you would have done so well. As it is, you need to be punished so you learn that I don't want to play these games each time I need you to do something. I'm looking out for your best interests here, Max."

"What are those numbers for?" I ask, not expecting him to give me any information.

"I'm slightly surprised you haven't already figured it out, amateur detective," Jefferson mocks me. "What possible use could I have for some random numbers in the past that are useless to me now?"

Numbers that are only good in the past. A series of two digit numbers. "You just forced me to give you winning lottery numbers?" I suddenly say, surprised. Why would he let me know that?

"Well done, Max!" Jefferson exclaims as he pats my head. "I also put today's date in there so that I knew when to expect you. If you will excuse me for a moment to prepare your punishment." Jefferson leaves the Dark Room, taking Victoria with him, and I can hear him close the large metal hatch behind him. "Jefferson, hurt me, not her!" I yell as he takes the blonde away. The photographer does not offer a response. I can hear Victoria squirm and then silence. Not too much time passes before he returns in a rush.

"Here, take this box." Jefferson places a small black jewelry box on my lap. The box does not seem to weigh much as it rests on my legs. "Now, just rewind all the way back, Max, and yell 'Thank you, may I have another?' Believe me, I will know if you don't. Think of Victoria."

How is this a punishment? What the fuck is going on? I'm tired of playing his demented games, but what choice do I have if I want to keep Victoria and me alive? He's already shown that he's more than capable of killing us both. "Let me see her first," I demand.

"Now, now, Max," Jefferson wags his finger. "Remember what I said about you not being in a position to make demands? If you don't rewind, something bad will happen to Victoria, and you won't want that on your conscience."

I don't have an option if I want to keep Victoria safe. I raise my right hand as much as I can given the restraints and concentrate. Again, I feel the world move around me as Jefferson walks backwards away from the Dark Room. He leaves my sight, and I continue to concentrate on the rewind until my head pounds with a sharp stab of pain, like a very quick, intense migraine. I release the rewind as I can't hold it through the pain. The jewelry box remains on my lap the entire trip, and I notice a fresh trail of blood leave my left nostril. As I regain my composure, I yell "Thank you, may I have another?"

Jefferson reenters the Dark Room and spots the jewelry box on my lap, and that brings a twisted smile to his face. "Ahh, I see you have received your punishment. I believe you need some time to relieve yourself. Let's go to the outhouse, shall we?" Jefferson then lets out a loud sigh. "Multimillion dollar survival bunker and no bathroom. What bad design."

Jefferson gets some rope from his survival supplies and ties to my waist and gives it a nice tug after he finishes to ensure it is on tight. "This is in case you try to rewind. You won't be going anywhere without me, I'm afraid." Jefferson then undoes my restraints and takes the jewelry box from my lap. Standing is very difficult as I feels like I haven't moved in days, and the photographer helps me up.

I am tempted to make a dash for my journal, which is still resting next to Jefferson's computer. If I can just get a photo from there, I can leave this hellhole. But as I'm tied to Jefferson and I am pretty weak right now, I wouldn't make it far. I should just wait for a better moment.

Jefferson leads me past the plastic sheeting that separates the studio from the survival area, and I see Victoria lying on the ground, unconscious. "You better not have done anything to her that my rewind didn't fix, or I'll make you regret it," I threaten. I don't have much beyond threats now. Even with my powers, I'm powerless.

"Don't worry Max, I haven't done anything," Jefferson softly reassures me, though his words don't have that effect on me. I can feel that there's something wrong with Victoria beyond just being drugged and kidnapped by a lunatic. What the hell did he do? Jefferson grabs a plastic grocery bag full of clothing from the shelf.

Jefferson continues to pull me along with the rope, and we exit the Dark Room. I struggle as we climb the stairs leading out, and Jefferson helps me keep my balance. I hate being reliant on this motherfucker for help. It's so humiliating.

We make our way out of the barn and travel behind it to an old wooden outhouse. I need to go so badly that I almost cry as I see my relief at hand. As we approach, Jefferson opens the door, and I enter, waiting for him to close the door behind me. He doesn't.

"What the fuck? A little privacy, you pervert?!" I yell at him.

"You surrendered that right when you refused to cooperate and started playing games with me, Max. Your actions have consequences. This isn't thrilling for me, but I need to make sure that you don't try anything. So do your business and let's leave." Jefferson leans against the door, arms folded.

I nervously pull down my jeans and underwear while Jefferson watches and then answer nature's call. This is so degrading. I couldn't even get undressed in front of my girlfriend, and now this creeper is leering over me as I go to the bathroom. I just want to bury my head in the sand and die. I would be tempted if that didn't mean letting this asshole win. I keep telling myself to be strong for Chloe. It's my mantra and the only thing keeping me going.

As I start to get up, Jefferson hands me the plastic bag. "Please change yourself. I'm tired of that smell, and I'm sure that you are tired of being covered in blood." I do as he asks, switching into new clothes, which seem to be from my dorm. It's the outfit I wore last Monday-the pink Jane Doe shirt and jeans. We then go back to the antechamber between the Dark Room studio and the hatch leading up to the stairs. Victoria remains on the ground.

"Before I forget," Jefferson says as he hands me the jewelry box that I transported with my rewind. "Open it."

I take the box and stare at it for a few seconds, dreading what I'll find inside. What game is he playing? Jefferson notices my indecision and mimics Victoria. "I guess the new Max is just as chickenshit as the old. How sad. You are stuck in the retrozone."

I gingerly open the box, steeling myself for whatever may be awaiting me inside. As the lid parts way with the rest of the box, I see an ear in a small pool of blood. This must be Victoria's.

"You said that you didn't do anything to her, motherfucker!" I scream at him as I completely lose my composure. He definitely got the reaction he wanted.

"And I didn't, Max," Jefferson quickly counters. "You made sure of that. Victoria would have bled out if you did nothing. You saved her again, Max! You should be proud." Jefferson turns the girl over to reveal the right side of head, which is lacking an ear. Instead, it looks like it was never there, just a hole in her head without any indication that an earlobe was ever around it. It's the most disturbing thing I've ever seen.

I start to panic, and I drop the jewelry box. I can hear Jefferson's laughter as my panic attack overwhelms me and my field of vision turns black.

* * *

I awaken in a padded room with a small barred window emanating a trickle of sunlight. Overhead are fluorescent lights that buzz and are covered with a metal cage, which blocks some of the light and artificially darkens the room. The walls are padded with white fabric covering what most likely is some sort of foam. A cockroach crawls from under the small opening under the thick metal door.

I look down to see that I'm wearing a straitjacket that prevents me from moving my arms, which are firmly pressed together against my torso. I can feel my hair is longer than normal, going beyond my shoulders to my upper back. I am laying on a cot, and my body is tied down to the bed with leather straps.

Where the fuck am I? I don't think any possible timeline would have me end up here. Thinking of nothing better to do, I start yelling, asking where I am and for someone to come see me. Eventually, the small opening on the door for the staff to look into the rooms slides open, and I can see a pair of green eyes observe me. Then I hear a male voice say to someone outside the room, "Tell Dr. Price that the patient is lucid."

A few moments pass until I hear a set of keys jangle and then a key opens my door's lock. The heavy metal door opens, and I see Chloe dressed in a white lab coat over a light blue blouse and a khaki skirt. The lab coat has a name stitched into it, saying Dr. Chloe Price. Chloe's hair is her natural blonde, not blue, but still cut short. Her blonde hair is neatly combed and professional, which is a bit jarring. Chloe carries a clipboard with some documents and a pen as she enters the room, followed by a couple male orderlies. Chloe nods at them, and they begin to release me from the bed and sit me up.

Chloe smiles at me, but the smile lacks the warmth that I am used to seeing light up her face. It feels like the smile is more of a courtesy than an expression of happiness to see me. "I'm glad to see you are back with us in the real world, Max Jefferson."

 **A/N:**

Well, that was a bit darker than the rest of the series so far, but I felt this shift was warranted given who we are dealing with. Also, the game itself is pretty dark and deals with heavy subjects.

One of the plot points that I thought was going to be in the game was that someone, probably the antagonist, would discover Max's powers. After Max reminds Jefferson of her journal in episode 5, I thought that he may do so as her journal does reveal her powers and Jefferson is already suspicious that something has happened to Max as he constantly remarks how different she is that week. As that narrative thread went undeveloped in the game, I decided to weave that into this story.

The next chapter also won't be sunshine and rainbows, but it won't be as heavy as this one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"I'm glad you are back in the real world, Max Jefferson," Chloe calmly tells me as she takes a seat on the other side of my cot, which creaks as she sits. Chloe waves off the orderlies, who promptly leave the room and close the door behind them.

I want to be ecstatic that Chloe is with me now, but I don't sense any warmth from her at all. This Chloe definitely doesn't love me, and she feels more like a stranger than my best friend. After the Dark Room, all I wanted was to be with her again. Seeing her like this is so heartbreaking.

At least I'm out of the damn Dark Room. Though this reality seems like it could be just as screwed up. I don't know if I can take much more of this shit. Although I haven't slept in days, my body feels just fine. I wonder if it's taken a mental toll, though. I guess it's apropos that I find myself here.

"My name is Max Caulfield," I angrily say. Jefferson? Don't tell me this is some fucked up timeline in which Jefferson somehow coerces me to marry him. The thought of marriage with that monster causes me to retch, though only a dry cough escapes my throat.

"Your maiden name, yes," Chloe nonchalantly corrects me. "It seems that you have repressed quite a bit. This is unfortunate and will make your recovery more difficult. What is the last thing that you remember?"

My maiden name? Oh god, I am married to that motherfucker here. I feel so violated, so unclean. How can I show my face to my Chloe again? No, this is not you. It's someone else.

I'm unsure of what to say in response to Chloe's question. What can I possibly say that will be helpful to me? I have no idea what has happened in this timeline. I decide to go to Monday, before the time travel bullshit. "I remember being in Jefferson's photography class at Blackwell."

Chloe writes down some notes and replies without looking up from her work. "I'm afraid that memory is from one of your hallucinations. There is no Blackwell or Arcadia Bay."

"Are they destroyed by the storm?" I quickly ask.

"No, they never existed," Chloe answers. "They are part of your hallucinations. We have discussed your hallucinations before in your other lucid periods. You claim to have time-travel powers and that your husband and Nathan Prescott are kidnapping women, including you, and posing them in compromising photographs in their survival bunker called the Dark Room. You further claim that I am with you most of the time as your best friend and that you let me die to save the town from an apocalyptic storm."

"But I do have these bullshit powers. I just can't show you now because I'm tied up at the moment." I wiggle in my straightjacket, though I'm firmly in its grip.

Chloe looks up at me with concern. "I'm afraid that is for your own protection. When you hallucinate, you sometimes hurt yourself. Believe me, you don't have any powers. This is real life, not some anime or a video game. I could provide you a sedative so that we can remove that jacket, but I'm afraid that would be counterproductive."

Chloe returns to her notes and continues to write. "Your lucid periods are unpredictable, both their longevity and when they occur. Therefore, we need to keep the jacket on you in case an attack is imminent. It's important that we get you to realize what's real in the time we have together. That may be a way to stop your next episode."

I continue to sit upright on the cot in my very uncomfortable jacket. Why did I end up here and not my dorm room? I passed out from Jefferson's sick punishment, so maybe I didn't hear the alarm. It's also possible that I somehow moved to another reality. This definitely isn't the Dark Room timeline as Chloe is here.

Dr. Price carefully examines my face to see if I am still here. "Let's talk about reality in the context of your hallucinations. Linking the two may make accepting the way things are easier."

This version of Chloe is so far removed from the blue-haired girl that I know. It is painful how cold and detached from me. She's so professional, and I can't see any of her rebelliousness, her inner punk rock girl. This Chloe seems so much older. At least I could see echoes of my Chloe in the William timeline, but Dr. Price seems like a different person entirely.

"Let's start with your last memory," Chloe begins as she looks up at me from her notes. "You said that the last thing you remember is being at Blackwell Academy in your husband's photography class. It is true that Mark is a photographer and now a teacher, but you were never in one of his classes. He didn't start teaching until a few years ago, which is far too recent for you to have been in one of his courses."

"What do you mean?" I ask, bewildered. "I'm 18 and a senior in high school."

Chloe shakes her head. "In your hallucinations, you make yourself younger as you are nostalgic for an earlier time before all of the troubles that triggered your first episode. In fact, you are 28, a year younger than me."

Chloe digs into her lab coat and pulls out a small compact with a mirror. She opens it and turns it to me, revealing an older, more mature version of myself. My brown hair is a bit longer and my face appears much thinner than I remember it. I'm also very pale, probably due to the lack of sunlight. How is this possible?

"How long have I been here?" I ask with trepidation.

"About five years," Chloe answers with pity. "Your condition has not improved in that time, and your lucid periods have grown more inconsistent. Worse, you cannot seem to remember anything from your previous lucid period, which means we have to take time to explain the world to you like we are doing now."

"Your husband is about 12 years older than you," Dr. Price continues. "You two met at the Zeitgeist in San Francisco after you won a photography contest while you were attending UCLA. He was impressed by your work and offered you an internship with his studio, which you eagerly accepted. Your relationship grew from there, and you eventually discovered that you had feelings for each other. You got married about eight years ago, and Mark has been steadfast ever since, especially after your illness progressed and you needed to be institutionalized."

"Do we have any children?" I'm afraid to ask this question, but part of me needs to know.

My question is met with a somber smile. "Yes, a daughter, Rachel Amber Jefferson, born seven years ago. I'm sorry that you don't remember her. It must be awful to hear that you have a child but no memories of her."

"This can't be real. Jefferson has done so much to hurt me. There's no way I would allow myself to fall for that demented creep, much less marry him and have a child." I shake my head and close my eyes. Maybe if I go to sleep I'll end up in a more familiar setting?

"You must be referring to the torture in the Dark Room that is part of your fantasy." Chloe moves closer to me and gives me a pat on the shoulder, though I don't feel much warmth behind it. "Max, that's you trying to punish yourself for what happened. You are forcing yourself to be strapped to a chair as a subject for compromising photos. Your subconscious wants you to feel like those photos reveal your true self, someone powerless and victimized. It's not real. Your subconscious wants to blame your husband, but deep down you know the truth. You desperately want Mark to be a cookie-cutter villain so that you have someone to hate, but he's a good man who loves you deeply. You used to feel the same way about him. It's interesting that you blame Mark when his name is so close to yours, Max Jefferson, that part of you must realize that you were at fault."

Chloe returns to her place at the end of my cot. "Let's return to the illusory world of Arcadia Bay. You claim that we are investigating the disappearance of Rachel Amber, who happens to share a name with your daughter. This is your mind trying to figure out what it has repressed."

I shift nervously on the bed, which elicits squeals from the mattress springs. "What I've repressed?"

"Yes. The triggering event for your illness. The cause of your daughter's death. Mark was away for a show in New York, and you were alone with Rachel, who was about two years old. You were high off of prescription opioid painkillers that you got from your drug dealer, Frank Bowers. Rachel was diabetic and you gave her an overdose of insulin because your condition." Chloe carefully observes me for any sign of recognition.

"I don't remember any of that," I wearily say. "This can't be real. I wouldn't take drugs. That's something that my Chloe from Arcadia Bay would do."

"Yes, that is something she would do. Don't you see what your Chloe truly is?" Dr. Price leans over, staring intently at me as she anxiously awaits my answer.

"What are you talking about? Chloe and I love each other. She is my everything, and I would do anything for her." I fruitlessly squirm on the cot, trying to loosen my jacket. I am tired of this bullshit timeline where I am married to a monster. I just need to return to my Chloe, and everything will be alright.

Dr. Price shakes her head, clearly disappointed. "I see that you don't understand yet. I'll call for some orderlies to join us so that I can remove your jacket. I think you may have an epiphany once we do." The psychiatrist opens the door and chats with an orderly. A few minutes pass and the two male orderlies from before enter the room.

The men pick me up from my bed and force me to stand. The tile floor feels very cold under my bare feet. The orderlies then proceed to remove my jacket, leaving me in a hospital gown. As I stretch my arms out, reveling in my newfound freedom, I notice it. My right arm is covered with a familiar tattoo of red ribbons, red roses with green stems, a skull, and blue butterflies. I scratch my arm to see if it's real. The scratching does nothing but irritate my skin. Why do I have Chloe's sleeve tattoo?

Dr. Price walks over to me and looks deeply into my eyes, holding me by the shoulders. "Don't you see, Max? The Chloe from your hallucinations is just a manifestation of one side of yourself that you are struggling with. The side that is rebellious, that is self destructive, that is irresponsible. In your fantasy, you are ultimately forced to choose between embracing this version of yourself and letting the world burn or forsaking it for the sake of everyone else. Part of you knows that it is too late for your daughter, so that's why she cannot be saved even if you sacrifice your inner Chloe."

"No, that's not possible," I say, lips quivering. "Chloe and I are dating. There's no way she's just a part of me. She's a different person."

Dr. Price raises an eyebrow at my remark. "Dating? This is new. It seems that you are now developing more false memories in your illusory world instead of simply replaying the same week over and over. Your illness is progressing, and we may not have much time before you are completely lost to your hallucinations."

I know this Chloe desperately wants me to believe her, but how can I just wave a wand and pretend my whole life was a lie? This simply cannot be real. I must be stuck in another timeline somehow. Did going through that photo for Jefferson royally fuck up space time?

Dr. Price continues her relentless effort to get me to believe her. "Let's get back to your Chloe. In your world, Chloe is rebellious because she lost her dad when she was 13 and felt the world abandoned her. It's notable that at this time you, the shy, anxious, and cautious girl, left her. In reality, your father died in a car accident when you were 13, and you started lashing out at the world. Your mother, just like your Joyce who you consider to be a second mother, remarried David Madsen. This caused you to further lash out as you detested your stepfather and felt that even your mother left you."

"Have you stopped to consider why the Max in your fantasy has no style?" Chloe asks rhetorically. "Why she is so shy and meek and is a blank slate? That's what's left of you after you take out this Chloe persona. That's why you feel whole when you are with her. That's why your Chloe says things like 'we will last forever.' It's not because you are lovers. It's because she knows that she is a part of you and will always be a part of you."

I shake my head as tears appear under my eyes. "No, this can't be real. Arcadia Bay is not a hallucination. I would know. I would."

Dr. Price embraces me and calmly pats me on the back. The orderlies take a step closer, probably afraid that I will randomly lash out at Chloe. "No, you wouldn't know. I'm sorry, Max. This must be so stressful, and I wish I had the luxury of easing your transition to reality. The truth is that I don't know how much time I have with you, and I'm afraid that if I don't get through to you, you may lose yourself forever."

What if she is right? What if all this time I have been hallucinating Arcadia Bay? What if I am losing it? I mean, if I would have told anyone what's happened to me last week, they would think I'm insane.

Dr. Price seems to read my thoughts. "I know it's difficult, but doesn't this reality make more sense? There are no rewind powers, which you have given yourself so that you wouldn't be forced to live with regret again. There is no snowfall that occurs when the temperature is eighty degrees. There are no random eclipses, no double moons, no group of beached whales. There is no Arcadia Bay. There is no Chloe."

I break down, overcome with the possibility that maybe this Chloe is right. If so, I have been needlessly torturing myself these past five years because I recklessly killed my daughter. Maybe not needlessly. I deserve to be punished for killing Rachel. Is Chloe really just another side of me? That thought is both sweet, as she will always be a part of me, and horribly depressing, as the person I love more than anything never existed.

"Maybe you are right," I concede. "I mean, what's happened in Arcadia Bay does sound insane. It's just hard to believe that my Chloe is not real." I continue sobbing, and the pain I feel only escalates when I see Chloe's (my?!) tattoo.

The thought just occurs to me that I am free of my straightjacket so I can rewind. I gingerly raise my right hand, and the orderlies scramble towards me. I don't have much time before they separate me from Dr. Price and tackle me to the floor and probably put me back into that damned jacket. I concentrate, trying to will time to move backwards. Nothing happens. The orderlies reach me and roughly separate me from the doctor.

"That won't be necessary, Hank and Dean," Dr. Price tells the orderlies. "She is starting to realize the truth. She just needed some more proof is all. She is not hostile. Are you, Mrs. Jefferson?"

Hearing her call me that shocks me, and I remain quiet for a few long seconds before I agree that I am no threat to anyone. Hank and Dean then step back towards the other side of the room, but I can tell that they still eye me suspiciously. What have I done in the past that has warranted all of this?

"I think you could use a friendly face right now," Dr. Price says. "I took the liberty of calling your husband when I was given word of your condition. He should be here by now, and he anxiously wants to see you. It's not often that he is able to visit the real you, and he misses you terribly. I know you only have negative associations with him, but please give this a shot, if only for your sake. Seeing him may help convince you of this reality."

 _Always take the shot_ , a malevolent voice tells me as I consider what to do. I don't have much of a choice in the matter as I am sure Dr. Price will insist that I go see him, and part of me is curious if this version of Jefferson really is a changed man. I will insist that Dr. Price remain in the room though. I can't handle being alone with any version of that asshole. "I will do it if you stay with me, Dr. Price."

"I understand your hesitancy towards seeing him," Chloe nods sympathetically. "I will remain with you, Max. I'm so glad that you have agreed to this. I think it could be very beneficial."

Chloe gestures to Hank and Dean and motions for me to follow her. We exit the room and I enter a long tiled hallway with several metal doorways littered along both sides. The lights above us periodically flicker, providing an eerie atmosphere as we proceed down the hallway. I follow Dr. Price as the two orderlies stay a few steps behind me.

"We are going to a private visiting room. Normally, guests and patients interact in a large common area, but we understand that you and Mark may need some privacy." We near the end of the hall and Chloe takes her keycard and holds it against the reader next to the double doors that separate this wing from another part of the facility. The reader flashes green, and Chloe opens the door, allowing me and my escort to walk through before rejoining us.

We eventually reach a door marked "Conference Room 2." Before we enter, Dr. Price turns to me. "Are you ready, Max? He should already be inside. You can have a moment if you need it."

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. There is a large window to the room, but the blinds are closed, obscuring what waits for me inside. "I think I could use a serious time out in the bathroom before doing this."

Chloe nods. "Of course. Follow me. Hank and Dean, thank you for escorting us, but I can take it from here." The burly blonde orderly begins to protest but stops when ribbed by the other man. Chloe leads me to a nearby bathroom and enters with me.

The bathroom seems identical to the one at Blackwell, just minus the graffiti. I shudder when I enter as I am flooded with memories of Chloe getting shot while I was powerless to do anything to stop it. Dr. Price sees my reaction but remains close to the door as I move over to the sink.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Am I really 28? I look much older, so it's possible. It's still jarring to see that tattoo on my arm, and I can't shake the feeling that it's fake, some temporary tattoo put there to convince me this shit is real. I would be terrified to get one, much less a massive sleeve like this.

I turn on the sink, and I smile at the simple sound of water rushing from the tap. It feels good to ground myself in something normal with all of this insanity around me. I cup my hands and take a handful of water to splash on my face.

 _There's an otter in my water._ I beam at the memory, but that smile quickly fades as I realize that may never have happened. That Chloe might just be in my mind. As thoughts of her fill my head, I notice a reflection of my girlfriend, complete with her beautiful blue hair and tattoo, in the stall behind me. I begin to turn around when I hear her whisper, "Don't. She may notice."

I stay still, uncertainty keeping me frozen. I hear my Chloe again. "You must not believe any of this, Max. It's not real. I don't approve of this. They went too far." Chloe gestures for me to go. "You must go now. I've said too much."

I look over at Dr. Price, who is checking her phone and appears oblivious to the other Chloe. I decide to risk turning around as I need to see her again. I am met by an empty stall. Was that just in my head? I don't think so. It seemed way too real. But how do I know?

I turn off the faucet, more uncertain of my mind than ever. How can I trust anything I experience if I truly do have an illness? This may not even be the real world.

Dr. Price hears me turn off the faucet, and she looks up from her phone. "It's time." I nod, and we go back to the door to the conference room. Chloe gives a smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. I take a deep breath as she opens the door, revealing Mark Jefferson anxiously sitting at the head of a conference table.

Jefferson looks up as he notices the door open, and he frantically searches for me as Chloe is obscuring me from view. Dr. Price moves to the other end of the table and takes a seat. "Good afternoon, Mark. I am going to remain here per Max's request. I'm sure you know the drill by now."

Jefferson's eyes light up once he notices me, and it appears that he just completely ignores Chloe. "Oh, honey. I have missed you so much." Jefferson starts to get up and move towards me, but he suddenly stops and sits back down as he notices the panic on my face.

Jefferson keeps his gaze fixed on me and speaks in his soothing, calm voice. "Sorry. I know this is hard on you. You probably think that I'm a monster, and you don't remember all of the wonderful times we shared. I don't want to frighten you. It's just hard for me not to show my lovely wife affection, especially as I haven't seen her, the real her, in quite some time. It never gets easier even after all of these years."

I eye Jefferson suspiciously as I take a seat at the middle of the table in between him and Chloe. It's so hard to not lash out at this asshole after everything that he has done. The only thing that keeps me from clawing his eyes out with my fingernails is the fact that the Jefferson I know may just be my own sick fabrication.

I lean back in the leather conference chair, trying to get comfortable. "This is not easy for me, either. You are right. I only have memories of you doing horrible things to me and others. Dr. Price made some good points, so I am trying to hear you out. How many times have we had this conversation?"

Mark smiles at my question. "You are still the same Max Jefferson. That's always your first question. We've had this awkward conversation four times now. Dr. Price is always present, so she can corroborate that number." Chloe nods.

"Well, what now?" I ask. "Part of me wants to believe that you are the amazing man Dr. Price says you are."

"And the other part wants to punch me in the face," Mark chuckles. "Yes, I know." Jefferson then moves under the table and picks something up. It's a photo album. Mark places the album on the table and slides it toward me so that he doesn't have to get close to me to give me the album. It feels like he learned to do that from an earlier conversation in which I freaked out on him. I tremble as I take the album. What will I find inside? Will this feel more real than my time with Chloe?

I run my hand over the cover absent mindedly. I guess part of me is still trying to figure out if this really exists. The cover is decorated similarly to my journal and reads "Our Story." In the center of the cover is a picture of Mark in a tuxedo, bow tie loosened, and me in a punk white wedding dress and short blue hair, just like Chloe. We are sharing our wedding cake, and I am thrusting Mark's piece into his face as he does the same to me. Our cake-smeared faces carry such radiant smiles. We look extremely happy. Is this how I looked when I was with Chloe at the motel?

My hands shake as I start to open the album. I stop and look at Jefferson, who is staring at me with concern and love. What kind of sick fucking joke is this? Mark Jeffershit is incapable of love. Though I have this nagging voice in the back of my head that is telling me to believe in all of this. This reality is far from perfect, but it feels so normal. No bullshit powers. No fucked up weather. But no Chloe, at least not the one I love.

I crack open the cover and reveal the first page. There's a program from the Everyday Heroes contest opened to a page with my winning picture, a selfie in my college dorm room that looks very similar to that other winning entry except I now rock blue hair and an outfit similar to Chloe's. Underneath is a selfie with Jefferson. I had decorated the page, writing "how we met."

I turn the page and it's titled "how we fell in love." The first photo is a shot that Jefferson took of me at some fancy studio in Los Angeles. In the picture, I am in torn jeans and a white tank top and behind a camera, looking through the large windows in the studio, possibly lining up my own shot. Underneath the photo I wrote "first day." The second photo is a group shot of Jefferson's staff, and I notice Victoria, Kate, and Nathan along with Jefferson and me. A third picture is a shot that I took of a surprised Jefferson wearing a smile and working in a dark room. Below the photo I noted "fucked up his pictures, but he didn't mind as I think he was happy to see me."

The opposite page contains three more photos. The first is of me with a wide grin while looking through the viewfinder of my instant camera. I am outside in some vineyard, in between the green vines and the growing grapes. The caption reads "Mark scared off the butterfly I was about to shoot, but I don't mind as I'm happy to see him." The second is a selfie with Mark, and both of us are beaming, showing genuine happiness. We both have cameras hung over our necks, and it looks we are on some dock with the sea glistening behind us as the sun rises in the background. I wrote under this one "first date as Mark takes me to shoot at the golden hour."

My inspection of the photo album is interrupted as Jefferson sighs to himself. "It's so sad that you don't remember that one. You actually were the one to ask me out on a photo hunt date. It took you several tries for me to say yes as I wasn't sure if you truly liked me or if it was just you trying something new by dating someone older. It was awkward for me at first because of the age difference, but you showed me nothing but love and affection. So, I eventually said yes to the date, but on the condition that you let me pick where and when to go. You readily agreed as you were eager to go out with me. You may have changed your mind when I woke you up early to go to this dock along the coast so that we could capture the sunrise against the sea. You weren't happy at first, groggy as you were, but you warmed up to the idea when you saw the sunrise. You said it was gorgeous, and I responded that it wasn't half as beautiful as you."

"I'm sorry that I don't remember any of that," I sheepishly say. "All I remember is another version of you that is incapable of anything good."

I flip through the pages in the album until I get to the wedding, which is titled "how we began our lives together." There are pictures of our family and friends, including Victoria, Kate, and Nathan, at the reception, which is outside near a beach. I notice that my parents aren't anywhere to be found.

I look up at Jefferson and open my mouth to ask about the absence of my parents, but he cuts me off, anticipating my question. "Vanessa and David aren't there because they didn't approve of our marriage. They thought you were with me simply to rebel against them. They didn't feel it was appropriate that you marry someone so much older than you. It was rough not to have them share our special day, but I could tell that while you regretted their absence, you wouldn't let them spoil our wedding. They still don't talk to me, and they have written you off."

I turn the page again and see a full-page photo of Mark and I kissing at an altar with Samuel standing behind us carrying a book and some notes. Below, the caption says "when it became official!" It takes everything I have not to gag at the sight of me kissing Jefferson. I recall the events of the past day and the horror etched on Victoria's face right before Jefferson put a bullet through her head. I remember being helpless in the Dark Room as Jefferson yelled instructions at me as he posed me for his twisted photos. The sight of me being so intimate with that man just makes me sick to my stomach.

I keep flipping through the album out of morbid curiosity. I don't know if I can really handle a reality in which I am married to this monster, but part of me wants to see what my life was like. I eventually come to a sonogram picture of a small fetus. I wrote underneath this one "it's a girl! thinking of Rachel, though Mark wants Amber." I then see a photo of me in a nightgown with frumpled blue hair and a big pregnant belly while I am flipping the bird to the camera. The caption reads "oh no, you didn't! Mark wants a blackmail pic." Close to that photo is a shot of Mark at a convenience store with a clock prominently displaying "3:15 a.m." in the background. Mark is holding up a pint of a chocolate coconut ice cream and giving the camera a thumbs up. The note under that picture says "late night craving run-Mark will do anything for Rachel and me."

I keep flipping through the carefully constructed album until I find a picture of me lying on a hospital bed holding a baby that is notated "meeting Rachel." I keep turning the pages, and I eventually reach a photo of a young toddler with a huge smile as she poses for a photograph. The child has long brown hair divided into pigtails and is wearing a shirt that has a broken camera on it with the words "I'm too cute." I wrote for this one "looks like Rachel may be a model when she grows up."

I close the album, unable to look any further. "We did look happy, and Rachel was so adorable. I can't believe I would let anything happen to her."

Jefferson visibly fights back tears and looks away. "I should have been there for you two. I should have known what you were going through. Motherhood wasn't easy for you, and you had become withdrawn. I killed her as much as you did."

I am at a loss of what to do. I have a great urge to go and comfort him as he clearly isn't past the death of our daughter, but I can't get past the image of Jefferson shooting Chloe in the junkyard. "I'm sorry, Mark. If I truly did that, I deserve everything that has happened to me, but you…" The next few words are difficult to form, but I somehow manage. "You should be happy."

Jefferson openly weeps, his face buried in his arms out of shame. I didn't think he was capable of this. Jefferson eventually collects himself and looks up at me, eyes red. "I can't be happy without you, my love. I failed you, and this is my penance. I only get to see you once in a blue moon, and when I do, you think I'm some sick fuck. I wish I could rewind time to when we were a family and change things so that we could all be happy. But I can't. The most I can do is make sure that you are taken care of in this private institution so that maybe one day you will get better and we can restart our lives."

"Wait, how much does this all cost?" I ask.

"Well, I've had to take a home equity loan on our place and take another job as a photography teacher at a local college to help make ends meet. Insurance helps, but it's not enough to get you the treatment you need. If we had you at a state facility, they would only stabilize you and then send you home. You deserve the best care."

My thoughts turn to alternate Chloe in her wheelchair. If this reality is real, I have basically become her except with a severe mental illness. I must be so financially burdensome on Mark, but he has stuck with me through all of these years when a lesser person would have filed for divorce.

This Jefferson seems truly different, and I hate seeing someone in so much pain. Against my better judgment, I move my chair closer to Jefferson, and place my hands over his. My gesture shocks the photographer, and he remains motionless, unsure of whether he should return the gesture in case he breaks whatever spell I'm under. I can hear Chloe take some notes.

Jefferson eventually decides to take advantage of my newfound affection and leans over to kiss me on the cheek. I move my hand to intercept the kiss and shudder deeply as I feel his lips press against my skin. A large part of me is absolutely repulsed by this, but a small portion is screaming that this feels so right. This reality feels so normal, and Jefferson isn't a monster. If anything, I would be. Doesn't this make more sense than being a time-traveling teenager? Then again, I can't just deny my entire life. I can't just give up on my girlfriend.

"You haven't done this before," Mark says in astonishment. "I can't tell you how long I've dreamt of this. How much I craved being close to you, holding you to protect you from the nightmares."

I look back into his eyes. "I can see that you are a different person than the Mark Jefferson I know. You seem kind and compassionate. I don't have any feelings for you as I can't forget the other Jefferson who tortured me, but I can tell that you mean well."

"It's a start," Jefferson responds. "We can fall back in love. We have all the time in the world."

"Maybe, though I'm not convinced that this is real. I have more memories of an entire life in Arcadia Bay than I do of this supposed reality." I shift nervously in the chair, creating some more space between me and Jefferson's chair. Mark's expression darkens as his hopes for my imminent recovery dwindle.

Chloe looks up from her notes. "You honestly believe that a world of superpowers and magical storms is more real than this? Just stop and truly think about this, Max. You have to believe us if you have any hope of getting better. Mark needs you."

"This is all too much," I say wearily. "I need time to think this through."

Dr. Price moves close to me and holds my hands. "I don't know how much time you have before your next attack. I think we made some progress, but your condition now rests entirely in your hands. You need to shatter the fantasy that you will find yourself in. You need to personally kill your Chloe and keep her dead to get rid of the hallucinations and start living back in the real world. Only something as dramatic as that will show that you accept reality and are ready to face your guilt."

"No, I can't do that! I love her!" My confession of love for another, even if he sees her as just another part of myself, visibly shakes Mark.

Chloe locks her eyes with mine. "You have to. It's the only way to show that you are ready to move on from the fantasy."

Suddenly, I hear the sound of an EKG beeping and a voice saying "she might be getting up." I turn to Jefferson, who notices that I'm distracted and sheds some more tears as he knows I will leave soon. The world fades to black.

 **A/N:**

In the game, we are faced with the dilemma of whether Max is a reliable narrator as the second scene of the game shows her waking up from a vision. This leads to the idea that the events in the game could just be in Max's head. I decided to explore that idea in this chapter.

As a nod to other fan fictions, Max has a tattoo in this chapter and Chloe's punk style has rubbed off on her.

The next chapter should be less heavy than the previous two and mark a return to the tone of the first five chapters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 **A/N: Donnie Darko spoiler in this chapter. Go watch it if you haven't as it serves as an inspiration for the game.**

"She might be getting up," an unfamiliar voice says. An EKG machine beeps next to me as I groggily open my eyes.

I'm in a room in what appears to be Arcadia Bay General Hospital, and this space is very similar to the one in which I met Kate last Thursday. Sunlight strains to get through the closed blinds to my room, and rays of light caress the floor. Fluorescent lights shine above me, but their hum is drowned by the sound of the machinery in the room. I have the whole room to myself.

Joyce is sitting at my bedside while a nurse leans over me, looking into my eyes as I open them. David is next to Joyce, snoring in a chair before Joyce wakes him. I wonder how long they have been here, waiting for me to wake up. I guess Joyce is taking this second mother business seriously.

"What… happened?" I manage to say weakly.

Joyce moves to my bedside and takes my hand. "David found you in your dorm room asleep, and you wouldn't wake up after David shook you. You had been acting weird lately. It sounded like you were saying goodbye to us on Sunday and then you missed classes on Monday. I got worried and asked David to check on you. That's when he found you passed out."

The nurse checks on my condition, and then tells us that she will inform the doctor that I am awake before leaving the room.

David gets closer to the bed and smiles as he sees me. I can see the lines of worry on his face. "I hope you don't mind that I entered your room after I knocked and you didn't answer. It was early in the morning, and no one had seen you leave the day before, not even for food. We were really worried."

I shake my head and give him a weak smile back. It's so good to see him after the hell I've just been through over the last few days. I was doubting my sanity, but now that I'm back home, I feel silly for thinking that this may not be real. That whole experience in the asylum just felt like a very strange, surreal dream. There's no way this isn't real. I would know.

David nods as he sees my response. "Good. Don't worry about your door. I'm sure Samuel is fixing it now. Just worry about getting better. There's a lot of people who care about you."

"My… other… parents?" I ask. I can only imagine how worried they are now.

Joyce lights up as I imply that I consider David and her my parents. "I called them as soon as David found you. They are on their way from Seattle right now."

What are my parents thinking now? I'm sure that they are upset and very worried as I apparently didn't take care of myself and wound up in the hospital. Though I'm sure they are less worried about that than me being stuck in the middle of a magical storm.

The cobwebs are starting to clear as I begin to feel more alert. I notice an IV coming from my right arm, which is tattoo free. There are some get well soon balloons decorating the room, and I find a card on the nightstand next to my bed. I pick it up and examine it. It says "Get Well Soon" and has everyone's signature from my photography class. Inside is the class picture that Jefferson took.

The door opens, and an older man in a white lab coat walks in. The doctor is balding with tufts of grey hair stubbornly clinging to the side of his head with a matching trimmed grey mustache. He is carrying a clipboard with what I assume are my files, and he puts on his glasses to read them. A ketchup stain graces his tie, which is white with yellow smiley faces that look like they had been drawn by kids. "Good afternoon, Miss Caulfield. I'm Doctor Monaco."

"Afternoon," I greet him. My voice feels much stronger than before.

"It looks like you were admitted this morning after you were found unconscious in your dorm room. We have you on an IV because you came in very dehydrated. Have you been feeling ill? Has anything in your environment changed recently? Are you drinking enough water?"

I nod no to all of his questions, and Dr. Monaco continues. "We aren't sure what the problem is as our initial tests came back negative. Now that you are awake, I would like to perform a scan to see if there's anything wrong that would explain your fainting." Dr. Monaco looks up from the clipboard to see my reaction.

"Do you think that this could be more than just me fainting from dehydration?" I ask nervously.

The doctor furrows his brow. "Maybe. We don't know precisely why you fainted and were unresponsive. It could be from dehydration, but I would like to run more tests to get some more information."

"Umm… sure, I guess." I am nervous of what these tests may reveal given my powers. I don't have them in this timeline though so they probably won't find anything interesting.

"We will return in a bit when the machine is available. If you don't have any questions…" Dr. Monaco then leaves the room after I shake my head.

I turn to look at Joyce and David. My second mother is wearing a white blouse with a blue skirt. I guess she didn't have to go into work today. I hope she didn't take time off because of me. David is in his Blackwell security guard uniform.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue. I'm sorry I made you worry. I didn't intend for all of this. I just got really depressed as Monday was the first day back after the funeral. It made everything too real. It just hit me that I could never have a life with Chloe. I couldn't get married. Have kids. Grow old together. I guess I got a little too absorbed by all of that." I cast my eyes away from Chloe's parents, embarrassed by making such a fuss.

I can see tears line the edges of Joyce's eyes, but her smile remains planted on her face. She must feel as shitty as I do about Chloe, but she's trying to put on a happy demeanor for me. She probably was really worried for me. "Hun, it's okay to mourn someone that was close to you, but you need to get on with your life. David and I are right there with you, but we know that Chloe wouldn't want us to just stop living. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but there are other people who could make you very happy." Joyce holds my hand, trying to comfort me.

"I don't know if I can just get over Chloe. She is… was so unique. I keep seeing her in my head, and I'm reminded of all the good times we shared. I just can't forget about her." I force a smile for Joyce.

"No one can replace her, but you will find someone else who makes you happy in other ways. Who knows? Maybe it's even someone at school." Joyce gives me a very odd wink.

"Yeah, who knows?" David chimes in. He is also obviously masking his sadness over Chloe for me. He turned away after I said all of the things that I could no longer do with my girlfriend. "Point is don't surrender, soldier."

"You are right. It's just so hard right now. Anyway, I should give my folks a call so they know I'm awake. Do I even have my cell phone here?" I look around my bed and notice my camera bag lying next to it.

"I got your bag and put your phone inside it. I can go to your room to get more of your stuff if I forgot something." David picks up the bag and places it by my side.

"Thanks for everything, David. I appreciate you being there for me." I reach for my camera bag and pull out my phone. I have many messages from my parents and classmates that express concern and wishes for me to get well soon. "Do you mind giving me the room?"

"Not at all. We will be right outside if you need us." Joyce pokes David and they get up to leave.

"Thanks mom," I tell Joyce as she leaves, eliciting a smile.

I unlock my phone and read over the messages from my parents. They are really worried about me and seem confused what is going on. I learned from the timeline with Chloe that I should call them as soon as possible.

I dial my mother and she immediately picks up. She must have been eagerly waiting for me to call. We talk for a few minutes as she tells me that they are still a few hours out. I let her know that I need to talk to them about something that will help explain what's been going on with me. Seeing that telling them about Chloe went well in her timeline, I figured I might as well do that here as well.

A few minutes pass before a gentle knock hits the door to my room. I don't need to see the door open to know who is on the other side. Kate pokes her head through the opening she just made. "Is now a good time for visitors?"

My face lights up as I see my friend. "Of course! It's good to see you, Kate. You really didn't have to come all this way. I'm sure it's nothing."

Kate is wearing a grey skirt, a dark blue cardigan over a light blue shirt, her cross necklace, and a green bracelet on her right wrist. She enters the room and takes the seat by my bed formerly occupied by Joyce. "Hey, Max. Everyone at school is concerned about you, especially considering all that you've gone through recently."

"I'm fine, really," I protest. It's so weird to be on the other side of this hospital visit. I remember being here last week to see Kate. Now, she's the one trying to lift me up.

"No, Max, you aren't," Kate kindly but forcefully responds. "You stayed in your room all day on Monday, missing your classes. On Sunday, you gave this really weird vibe at brunch, like you were going somewhere and wouldn't see Warren and me again. I'm really worried about you. You haven't been taking care of yourself, and now you are here. What's going on with you?"

"I've had a tough couple of weeks, that's all," I try to assure Kate. It's certainly not a lie, but I can't tell her the whole truth. I don't want her worrying about me as she's got enough on her plate. She's had to process being in the Dark Room ever since Jefferson was revealed for the sick fuck he is. I know Kate is willing to do horrible things to herself if she gets put into a corner, and I don't ever want to put her even close to that position again.

Kate uncomfortably shifts in her chair and looks away from me as if she is contemplating asking a tough question. I can see the concern on her face shift towards guilt. "Max?" Kate gingerly begins. "Mind if I ask you a personal question? It's totally okay to say no. I won't be offended at all. In fact, this is probably just a bad idea."

"Err… sure, Kate. You are one of my best friends and a kind, sweet person. I know that you would never hurt me, so ask away." I give Kate a warm, reassuring smile.

Kate blushes at the compliments. "Thanks, Max. Umm… this is difficult to say… there's a rumor going around the girls' dorms about you."

"Yes?" I probe, though I have a good idea what this could be. My conversation with Juliet the other day probably sparked a rumor that I'm gay.

Kate anxiously wiggles in her seat. "Well, umm… are you in love with Chloe?" Kate quickly asks, likely doing that so she doesn't lose her nerve.

"What? Chloe?" I ask, very confused. The color drains from my face, which gives Kate the answer to her question. How did that rumor get started? Surely Joyce didn't tell anyone, and I only told Warren that I was gay. Plus, I don't see Warren starting a rumor in the girls' dorms. What the hell?

"Umm… yes. Juliet told us that you said you had a secret admirer that didn't go to Blackwell but things were weird. She said that she noticed that you awkwardly avoided using any pronouns when you were talking to her about it. We thought that your admirer must be Chloe given how hard you have taken her death. It just makes too much sense. I know you said that you haven't seen her in five years, but maybe you were lying to cover up the fact that you were in a relationship with her." Kate avoids eye contact with me, and I can tell that she is very ashamed to be asking me about a rumor. She's probably only doing so because I'm here, and she's trying to find out why.

I don't know how to respond. "It's… true. I do love her, but I didn't want you to get caught up in all of my drama. I know that you are dealing with a lot right now. Sorry for being such a burden, Kate."

Kate shakes her head at the suggestion that I'm a burden. "No, Max, you are a good friend. That means you could never be a burden to me. I don't care about who you love, but your behavior makes much more sense now that I know the truth. I'm so sorry that you had to lose Chloe like that. I can't begin to imagine how awful that was for you." Kate becomes withdrawn as she thinks about losing someone so close to you right in front of you like that.

I start to get out of bed to go comfort Kate, but Kate moves closer to me in response. I wrap my arms around her. "Yeah, that definitely sucked. Afterwards, it felt like I couldn't talk to anyone about my feelings, so I guess that made me even more withdrawn than usual."

"You can talk to me, Max," Kate calmly tells me. "No matter how crazy it may seem, I'm here to listen. That's what friends are for."

 _Well, how about this for crazy? I used to have time-travel powers (still kinda do but in other timelines), and I had to sacrifice Chloe to save everyone else because there was this magical storm that would have wiped out the town if I saved Chloe in the bathroom. And now I'm hopping between timelines when I go to sleep. I've even seen a timeline in which everyone was trying to convince me that I'm insane and that Arcadia Bay and you aren't real._

As much as Kate sincerely thinks she can listen to anything, she couldn't hear all of that without thinking that I need professional help. Who knows? Maybe I do after all the trauma that's been inflicted on me, but the only person I can talk to about all of this is trapped in another timeline.

"Thanks," I wearily respond. "I may take you up on that. I just need time to process everything that's happened."

Kate gets up from her chair. "Well, I shouldn't be greedy with your time. I'm glad that you seem to be doing better. Please come talk to me if things get worse. I'm here for you. I'll send in your next visitor if you are up to it."

I nod, and Kate leaves the room. Almost as soon as she leaves, Warren rushes into the room with worry etched all over his face. "Maximus Prime," Warren greets me half-heartedly as he takes the chair formerly occupied by Kate. Warren is wearing his Schrodinger's cat shirt, a white long-sleeve shirt underneath, and jeans, and he is carrying a stack of graphic novels. "Brought you some reading material so you have something to do while you are stuck here."

"Aww," I gush. "You are so thoughtful. What are you going to have me nerd out on?"

"I brought _The_ _Walking Dead_ graphic novels, volumes 1-18," Warren informs me. "I wasn't sure how long you would be here, so I just brought all of them." Warren places the large stack on the nightstand next to my bed. It's pretty intimidating. "So, uhh… how are you doing?"

"I'm okay. Wish I was already back at Blackwell, but apparently there are some tests I need to take." I grumble at the thought. "By the way, you didn't happen to tell anyone I what I told you the other day? It's not supposed to be a huge secret or anything, but I was hoping to tell people myself. It seems there is a rumor going around that."

"No!" Warren quickly and emphatically replies. "You didn't tell me that it should stay between us, but I don't go gossiping about my friends. I want you to be able to trust me with what's going on."

"I thought so," I sigh. "The rumor is my own damn fault then. I was too careful with my words when talking to Juliet, and she must have noticed."

"Speaking of talking to me about what's going on, I'm really worried about you, Max. Ever since Chloe died, it's almost like you are a different person. I think you should talk to someone about what went down in that bathroom. That couldn't have been easy to deal with. I would be happy to listen."

I sit up in the bed and look at Warren in the eyes. It seems like I have his rapt attention. "Okay, I guess it would be nice to talk about it. But this stays between us."

Warren nods in agreement. "Of course, Max."

"You've seen _Donnie Darko_ , right?"

"Yeah, really fun movie with some time-travel mind screws," Warren shrugs, clearly wondering why this is relevant.

"Well, would you think that something like that could happen in the real world?" I ask, testing Warren before fully diving into my insane tale.

"I suppose. Are you saying that you are hallucinating killer rabbits named Frank?"

"No. I guess I should start at the bathroom. I initially went in there to calm myself down after an embarrassing moment in Jefferson's class. I saw an effervescent blue butterfly behind the stalls, and I went back there to take a photo. This butterfly wasn't like anything I had seen before. It was almost translucent, so I knew I couldn't miss that photo op. Then, Nathan and Chloe burst in, got into an argument, and you know what happened next."

"Yeah," Warren casts his eyes towards the floor. "I do. Did you just hide the whole time, scared that Nathan would see you?"

Do I tell Warren the truth? He did believe me in another timeline, but he had a magical storm and all this other supernatural evidence to convince him. Though he did pretty much take me at my word and believed me really quickly. I wish I could tell him and then rewind if it all goes to shit. I guess I have to make this decision like a normal person. I'm so tired of holding this in.

"I could have stopped it from happening," I begin to confess. "All I had to do was hit the fire alarm and Chloe would still be here."

"That's not fair," Warren says confidently while returning his gaze to me. "Hindsight is 20/20. You can't just replay moments like that. Those kind of quick calculations are impossible IRL. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Except I knew for a fact that the fire alarm would have worked at that moment, and I decided to do nothing. I chose to let Chloe get shot. I basically killed the person I love." I hold Warren's hand to get his attention and let him know that I'm serious.

Warren shoots me a confused expression. I can see him try to work this out in his head, but his demeanor doesn't change as he can't think of a way in which my statement makes sense. "Wait, what? There's no way that you could have known that for a fact. And you love Chloe? I thought you hadn't seen her in five years. None of this makes any sense, Max."

Well, I've gone this far. No point in stopping now. "That wasn't my first time in that moment. It was my third."

Warren just stares at me with a blank look on his face. "That didn't help this make more sense. It just did the opposite."

I sigh. Here's where Warren starts thinking I've lost it. "This is going to sound totally insane, but please hear me out. The first time I went into the bathroom, I saw Chloe get shot and die, but instead of doing nothing, I raised my right hand and yelled. For some reason, time started to reverse itself, and I found myself back in Jefferson's class."

Warren remains silent, waiting for me to continue. He doesn't have a look of complete disbelief all over him, so I guess that's a good thing. I continue on. "I learned I had the ability to rewind time for up to a few minutes. The world around me would move backward as I stood still. It was so fucking strange. I then went back to the bathroom and was able to save Chloe by hitting the fire alarm. That's how I knew that it would work."

Warren waits until I pause, and then he excitedly shifts in his seat. "Wow, Max. I don't know what to think. You can control time? I've always wanted to be able to do that. That superpower is so OP. My best friend has a broken ability." Warren's tone seems to be genuine, so I think he may at least be trying to believe me. I don't know if I would believe him if our roles were reversed.

"Actually, it sucks," I counter. "Turns out the universe doesn't like you screwing with predetermined events. You know, things like saving someone from getting shot to death. Remember _Donnie Darko_? My story turned out similarly, but instead of me sacrificing myself, at the end of the week, I had to sacrifice Chloe to save Arcadia Bay from getting hit by a magical E-6 tornado. I did that by using that butterfly photo to go back to that moment because I could also use photos to time travel. I don't blame you if you think I've totally lost it."

Warren starts scratching his chin as he thinks this over. "Yeah, it is hard to believe, but you wouldn't just make this up, Max. Either you are insane, which I don't think is the case, or you truly do have these powers. Just give me a demonstration. Hmm… that would be hard to do, though. How would I know if you traveled into the past? I know. I'll show you what's in my wallet, and then you can rewind and tell me what's in there."

Warren starts to pull out his wallet, but I wave him off. "I wish I could do that. I don't have my powers in this timeline anymore."

"Oh, well, that's inconvenient," Warren responds as he puts away his wallet.

How can I show him that I used to have powers? I certainly would want some proof if he all of a sudden started claiming he had superpowers. I could use the info I got during the week that never was. Maybe that will be enough. "I can tell you that you were planning on taking Brooke to the drive in if I said no. Your student record shows you have a 4.0 GPA. You were supposed to add chlorine to the chemistry lab last week, but you were debating between sodium and potassium. If you would have added chlorine, you would have gotten an "A-" on that lab. You told me that you feel invisible at Blackwell after you got drunk at a Vortex Club party."

As I tell him the things I learned from that lost week, which I hope didn't overlap much with the week that actually happened, Warren's mouth opens wider and wider. "Wha?" Warren manages to say.

I smile at him. "Yeah, that all happened for me last week, but I erased that when I was forced to let Chloe die in the bathroom."

"Wow," Warren finally says after a few more seconds of dumbfounded silence. "I don't know what to think. How did this happen?"

"I don't really know," I admit. "All I know is that Chloe's first death somehow triggered them. After I came back and let her die, I haven't been able to use my powers in this timeline."

"There you go again, saying something about this timeline. What is that all about?"

"Well, ever since Friday, I've been traveling to other timelines that I made when I go to bed in my dorm room. I've been able to see Chloe that way, and in those other timelines, I still have my powers. This may sound like I'm just dreaming, but it felt way too real. Last night, I went to a timeline that I thought I put behind me forever. I was stuck in Jefferson's Dark Room." I shudder at the fresh memories of the humiliation I suffered at the hands of that monster.

Warren slumps in his seat. "You mean that during the week that never was you were in that awful place? I don't know what to say. I can't imagine how horrible that was, and you haven't been able to talk about it with anyone."

"Yeah, that sucked pretty hard." I knew that sounded lame as it was coming out of my mouth, but I can't even begin to describe everything that he did to me. Warren and I sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes, neither of us sure of what to say.

I'm the first to break the uneasy stalemate. "After that, instead of finding myself awake in my dorm room like usual, I was in some psychiatric hospital, and everyone there was trying to convince me that l was insane and Arcadia Bay was just in my head. I'm still tripping over that one." I shake my head as memories of Jefferson and Dr. Price come back. They sounded convincing, but how can this all be fake?

"Maybe that has something to do with you blacking out this morning?" Warren suggests. Blacking out? Of course, why didn't I think of that before?

I give Warren a huge smile. "You're a genius. You don't know how much better you just made me feel."

Warren noticeably brightens when he sees me beaming at him. "Why am I genius again? Aside from the obvious reasons, of course."

"Because the last time I blacked out like that I was having a nightmare. That means that the whole time in the asylum was just a nightmare. It makes so much sense now." I feel so giddy. This world _is_ real! It's totally not just some fantasy in my head. Come to think of it, I can't think of something much more disturbing than being married to Jefferson. Definitely the stuff of nightmares.

"Of course, if you really _were_ insane, then this would be where you make something up like a nightmare to explain away the real world so that you can live in your fantasy." Warren adds, quite unhelpfully.

"Umm… remember what I said about genius? Let me take that back." I groan. Of course, Warren's right. There's no way to actually know for sure. I guess I just have to trust myself.

"Nope, you already said it. Unless, you want to rewind?" Warren laughs at his own joke as I facepalm. "I can assure you that I feel real and not some figment of your overactive imagination. Then again, I would so say that if you were losing it."

I can't help but smile at Warren trying to figure out all of my drama even if he's not being very reassuring right now. He's been such a good friend ever since I got to Blackwell. From saving me from Nathan, to bubble hearthing for some chemistry advice, to saving me again from Nathan, to being there with a photo when he was my only hope of rescuing Chloe, Warren has always been there when I really needed him. I wonder what he sees in me. Brooke is so much smarter. Dana is so much prettier. Victoria is so much cooler. I'm just a shy geek girl who is just horribly awkward around everyone. Whatever it is, I'm glad he's here now. I almost told Warren about my powers last Monday. It feels right that I finally was able to.

Warren's face lights up as an idea comes to him. "You said that your random timeline jumps happen when you fall asleep in your dorm room? Well, we should conduct an experiment to see if it is tied to your room or if it just happens when you fall asleep. You should spend the night with me." Warren is almost bouncing in his chair as his idea excites him. I don't think he means anything romantic by this. He's probably enthused by the idea of spending a night with a friend, playing video games, and watching anime.

"Hmm… that sounds like a good idea," I tease Warren. He gets the biggest grin on his face. "Testing my timeline jumps by sleeping somewhere else, not spending the night in your room." His grin disappears, but he still looks excited about the experiment. "I can't go to sleep for this test anyway if we are up all night playing games. I will go spend the night in Joyce's house."

"Well, okay, be that way," Warren says wistfully. "We would have had so much fun."

"Yeah, but I would get in so much trouble if someone found out I spent the night in the boys' dorms. Anyway, thanks for coming and listening. I'm not sure if I would have believed me."

"Hey, as a scientist, I have to be open to unusual and unexplained phenomena. I shouldn't prejudge the data just because I haven't seen anything like it before. Besides, I trust you. If you say that you have superpowers, then it must be true." Warren flashes me another smile as he gets up and leaves the room. A moment passes and the door opens again, Warren reappearing. "Have time for another visitor, Max?"

"Umm… sure?" I respond, confused. Who else would come over? I'm not that close with anyone else at Blackwell. Warren leaves again to tell whoever it is that I'm free.

Before I can stop to consider who might be coming through the door, Victoria emerges. "Hey, hipster. Mind if I come in?" When I first see Victoria, I start to panic as I think I see her missing an ear, just like in the Dark Room timeline. I quickly get a hold of myself as she pushes her blonde hair behind that ear, shattering the illusion.

Victoria? She hates me in this timeline. At least, I think she hates me, though she was somewhat nice when I broke down in her room. "Sure… I mean, no, I don't mind," I awkwardly respond.

The Queen Bee strolls into my room wearing a red cardigan over a white blouse and dark skinny jeans. Her trademark pearls hang around her neck. Victoria is carrying some binder that is wrapped neatly in some red wrapping paper with yellow polka dots under her arm as she enters the room.

"You are probably wondering why me, the Queen of Blackwell, would come to visit you." Victoria says as she takes the visitor's seat by my bedside.

"Yeah, I was," I admit. "I thought we were enemies. At least, I didn't think we were friends."

Victoria gives me a slight smile and looks away from me as if she was embarrassed by something. I haven't ever seen her like this. I didn't know she was even capable of those emotions. "Yeah, well, I've done a lot of thinking since our talk the other day. I've been trying to come to terms with some things about myself and why I've been such a bitch to you ever since you came to Blackwell even though you have done nothing to me other than be an obnoxious hipster."

My curiosity is perked now. What could she mean? Why is she acting so strange? What is that thing under her arm that she is trying to shield from me so that I don't get a good look at it? I stare at Victoria, waiting for her to continue. The Queen Bee still won't return my gaze.

"At first, I thought that I was simply jealous of you. I know that's shocking as I am totally awesome and amazingly talented. But you probably don't know this because I try to exude this confident bitchy aura all the time, but I'm really insecure. I see you, someone who I thought doesn't give a crap what other people think and who could care less about impressing that asshole Jefferson, and I just can't take it. I want to feel that way, and I thought I was just taking out that frustration on you." Victoria continues to examine her shoes, a pair of black flats.

"It's okay, Victoria," I chime in. "I know that you feel insecure, so I understand where you are coming from. I just wish we could get past that and be friends. We have so much in common, and I think we could really enjoy each other's company."

The blonde still doesn't look up at me. "I haven't told anyone else this. It's really something I just found out myself as I was thinking of you. You see, I know that you are as insecure as I am and you do care what others think, even Jefferson before we found out that he was a monster. So, I'm not jealous of you. There's another reason why I'm such a bitch to you."

"... Yes?" I offer, confused where this is all going. What could possibly be the reason for her to act like this?

"I think that I like your hipster ass." Victoria quickly responds.

"Okay, so you want to be friends?" What the hell is going on? Why does Victoria suddenly want to be friendly?

"Oh Christ, you are really going to make me say this, aren't you?" Victoria replies, clearly annoyed. "You must be really enjoying this."

"What?" Confusion still lingers around me like a thick fog.

"Fine," the Queen Bee says in a huff. "I lo… err… have strong feelings for you. God, I'm so embarrassed right now."

My lower jaw separates from the upper as I take this in. Alternate universe Victoria was totally into me, but things were so different there that I didn't think this was possible over here. How could she ever find me attractive?

"Really?! Me?" I add. It's all I can think to say as my mouth remains gaping open in shock. This seems so sudden from this Victoria. She never even hinted that she was interested before unless being constantly bitchy to me is her way of flirting.

"Yeah," Victoria answers as she finally looks at me in the eye. I can see why she was avoiding looking at me as she is wearing her emotions all over her face. I can see some tears forming around her eyes, and she is looking at me with compassion and longing. It's really fucking strange to see her look at me this way, so vulnerable. "I know. Turns out I have a thing for shy, geeky photo nerds. I didn't realize I was even attracted to you until the other day when I held you in my room. After you left, I kept replaying it over and over in my head, and I've had reoccurring dreams of you and me together. In short, I've been a mess. I can't stop thinking of you."

Before I can say anything, Victoria continues, running a hand through her short blonde hair. "Here's a peace offering. Sorry about everything that I said about Chloe. She sounded like an amazing person."

Victoria hands me the gift, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and abruptly leaves the room. I take a moment to lay there, appreciating the silence other than the sound of medical machinery in the background. I look at the wrapped binder in my lap, wondering what it could be. I open it up and discover a photo album.

On the front of the album is the picture of Chloe and I dressed as pirates that we took as preteens. I open it up and see photos of places around Arcadia Bay that Chloe loved. All of the photos are taken with an instant camera, which shows how much time and care Victoria put into this as I am sure she's not used to trying to get good shots with it. There's some photos of the Two Whales, including a shot of the sign with a sunrise in the background. Then there's pictures of the bench at the lighthouse on the next page. I flip the page again and find a series of photos of American Rust. At the end of the album is a group of pictures of Chloe's house, ending with shots of her room. All of the photos are lovingly taken and are simply breathtaking. I knew Victoria had talent but damn. I would be jealous right now if I wasn't so touched.

On the last page of the album is a note. Next to it is a loose photo of the beach. The note reads:

 _Max,_

 _I'm sorry if I freaked you out by my sudden admission of love. I think I've been so mean to you because part of me was denying my feelings for you. I've never felt this way about anyone, so I think I was scared as I didn't know what was going on. I felt so out of control that by harassing you I could get back some control over my life._

 _I went to see Joyce after you were acting so strange on Sunday. She told me about Chloe and how amazing she was. She also mentioned a few of her favorite spots as well as the fact that you two were an item. Sorry, I think she thought that everyone else knew._

 _I know how much Chloe means to you. I can't imagine having to watch her die in front of you. I try to picture being in that bathroom, scared shitless like you likely were, and watching Nathan shoot you. I don't get very far with this before I break down, so I get that you are not in a good place right now._

 _But I'm here for you. I deeply care for you, and I want you to know that I will be whatever you need. I don't want anything that you aren't ready to give. I will wait for you for as long as you need if you happen to share any feelings for me. In the meantime, I hope we can grow to be good friends._

 _Love,_

 _Victoria_

 _PS: Taking decent photos with an instant camera is so hard. Mad props to you. Hope I did you proud._

 _PPS: Couldn't help myself with the beach pic. It reminds me of a dream of us sunbathing there._

I don't know what to think anymore. I am beyond blown away by Victoria's gift and how perfect it was. I can see why she inspires such loyalty in her friends even though she can treat them like shit. I want to climb out of bed and go find her to let her know how much the album means to me, but I'm stuck here, waiting for the doctor to return.

I pick up my phone and type out a text to Victoria.

 **Max (1:47 p.m.):** I am beyond touched by your gift. Tyvm! I would be honored to call you a friend :)

I immediately get a response.

 **Victoria (1:47 p.m.):** don't worry about it. Just get better whore ;)

 **Max (1:47 p.m.):** Oh dog, what did I just get myself into? Whore?

 **Victoria (1:48 p.m.):** term of endearment among my close friends. You should be proud to be a part of my posse now. We will totally be planning the next vortex club shindig soon

 **Max (1:48 p.m.):** As long as I don't have to do any of your homework. I've got enough already, whore.

 **Victoria (1:48 p.m.):** no. Only I get to call you a whore. Find another name 4 me. I suggest Your Grace

 **Victoria (1:48 p.m.):** besides, I couldn't pass your beautiful photos off as my own, so don't worry

 **Victoria (1:49 p.m.):** should stop texting b4 I turn into a creepy stalker. I will totally do that if I don't stop myself

 **Victoria (1:49 p.m.):** probably shouldn't have told you that. Your first whore duty is to keep that a secret. Cya later ^_^/

Without any more visitors, I lay there, pondering what all of this means as the EKG beeps next to me. Thoughts of the Dark Room soon overwhelm me as all I can see when I close my eyes is Victoria's head getting blown apart by Jefferson's bullet.

* * *

The doctor eventually returns, and I take the test. They didn't find anything, and I am released from the hospital. The doctor suggests that I follow up with my primary care physician in a week and of course, drink plenty of fluids.

My parents arrive as I am ready to leave, and after some hugs and tears, I confess my love for Chloe, giving them the same story that I told Joyce. They take the news the same as when I was with Chloe, except their joy at their daughter finding love was replaced with sorrow that their child had to lose someone close. I tell my folks that I think I need a break from my dorm room and ask if they would mind if I spent the night with Joyce. They seem a bit put off by this as I think they would rather just have me get a hotel room next to them, but they relent as they see how much I want this. They drive me to Chloe's home, and we part ways for the night.

Joyce and David are thrilled that I'm staying the night with them. They start to fix up the couch as they likely think that being in Chloe's room would be too traumatic, but I say that it's fine. I would rather be there and feel like I'm with her than anywhere else.

I lay in Chloe's bed, trying to bask in it all. I can smell faint whiffs of cigarette smoke, and my thoughts are consumed by my girlfriend. I wonder what she is doing now. I hope that Warren's experiment fails and I find myself in Chloe's embrace as soon as I fall asleep.

It takes me a while, but sleep finally comes for me.

* * *

I wake up, keeping my eyes closed for fear of what I might see. I hear a bird chirp nearby, and the familiar scent of cigarette smoke fills my nose. I thrust my eyes open, hoping to find myself next to my bae. Instead, I see an American flag covering a window, obscuring the morning sunlight.

 **A/N:**

I'm closing in on 50k words, and my manuscript is now over 100 pages. Thanks to everyone who has shared this story with me so far. I'm encouraged by the response that I've received, and I appreciate your feedback.

This chapter was fairly long, but this seemed necessary as a way to reset things after the drama of the two previous chapters and because we haven't been back to this timeline, excluding short visits in between other timeline trips, since Chapter Three.

I found Victoria's explanation of why she is bitchy towards Max at the Vortex Club party to be pretty unconvincing. She basically says it's because she is jealous that Max doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks, but we know that Max very much cares about what other people think. The entire reason why she needs a serious time out in the bathroom at the beginning of the game is because Victoria made fun of her in class and Max felt ashamed in front of everyone. I think the reason given in this chapter makes much more sense.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

 _ **Wednesday, October 15, 2013**_

 _So, my timeline jumps are tied to my dorm room. Thanks to Warren, I learned that this morning when, for the first time in awhile, I actually went to bed and woke up in the same place without going anywhere else in between. It was so weird to experience something so normal._

 _Now, if I was a rational person, I probably would just request a room change from Principal Wells and be done with this whole timeline jump business. But then I would never see Chloe again. As much as going to the Dark Room again seriously fucked me up, I couldn't live with myself if I just gave up on my girlfriend so easily. I know she wouldn't if she had the choice._

 _So, I'm back here in Blackwell and in my room. My parents wanted me to take some time off, but I need to get back to it. How is it that I'm the responsible one here? They are going to stay in town for a few days just in case._

 _I went to class today for the first time this week, and I kept getting odd looks from people. I guess everyone knows that I was in the hospital yesterday because I didn't take care of myself due to my depression over Chloe's death. People seem timid around me, even my teachers. I was asked a question in science class but totally blanked. Ms. Grant just smiled and answered the question for me before moving on with the lecture as if nothing happened. Everyone seems to think I'm so fragile, that I'll break at any moment with the wrong word. It's strange that I'm getting this reaction when people around here were so heartless with Kate._

 _I catch Victoria staring at me in the classes that we share, and I try not to look like I notice. I'm glad that we are friends now, but things are so awkward after she confessed her love for me. I was incredibly touched by her gift, but it's hard to be around her without thinking that somehow I'm betraying Chloe. Why do I feel that way? Can't I just be friends with Victoria without it being awkward? Maybe it has something to do with Maxine. If she has feelings for Victoria, does that mean I secretly do too?_

 _Principal Wells called me into his office for what I thought was going to be a talk about my hospital visit. Instead, he asked me to tell David that if he wants to keep his job, he shouldn't press a lawsuit against Blackwell for Chloe's death. I have no idea why that ass couldn't just tell David himself and had to go through me. I guess he's stressed over Blackwell's finances. The Prescotts stopped giving their large donations after Nathan's arrest._

 _Other than classes, it was quite the normal day for me. After dinner with my parents, I hung out with Warren, and we watched some Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. I told Warren about the result of his experiment, and he was happy that he could help shed some light on my condition. Now, we just need to figure out why my dorm room is so special. Warren is talking about "borrowing" some equipment from the science lab to conduct a couple experiments, but I don't want him to get in trouble if he gets caught. We'll have to figure this out some other way._

 _I'm resigned to traveling to some random timeline tonight. I've dealt with the Dark Room, so I'm sure there's nothing that could be worse than that. Right? I really need to see Chloe again. After everything that's happened in the last few days, I know seeing her would calm me down and put me at ease. I would face a hundred days in the Dark Room to have Chloe back. Fingers crossed._

I finish the day's entry well after the sun traveled past the horizon. My room is illuminated by my floor lamp and the lanterns decorating my memorial wall. I get changed into my trusty pajamas, still clinging to the hope that I'll see my blue-haired girlfriend on the other side. I wearily get into bed after turning off the lights, and I try to let sleep take me. It inevitably does.

* * *

I immediately find myself awake in another place, as expected. I keep my eyes closed out of habit, knowing that opening them means losing the hope that I've somehow wound up with Chloe again. I'm snuggling with someone else. I start to process this before I realize that we are both naked, and my body is firmly pressed against hers as I hold her close. I throw my eyes open to figure out what's going on.

I see that I'm in a familiar posh hotel room and a king-size bed with soft silk sheets. The first thing I notice about the woman in my arms is a string of pearls around her neck, resting under a blonde pixie cut. Instinctively, I collect the sheets and wrap them around me as I quickly pull away from Victoria.

I am so embarrassed right now. Maybe I shouldn't be as it's not like this Victoria hasn't seen this body before, but I can't help it. Part of me is pissed off that something I was hoping to do first with Chloe-waking up naked snuggling with her- has been taken away from us.

Victoria turns over to me, having awoken from my sudden movement. I can see that she has dark purple bruises running along her stomach and upper legs as she is totally exposed. "Maxine?" Victoria says groggily. "What's going on, darling?"

Victoria then notices that I've gathered the sheets on the bed to cover myself. "Oh god, it's you, isn't it? Max? I can't do this right now." She starts to weep, and I go over to comfort her, forgetting about the covers falling away from me.

"Do what?" I ask as I hold Victoria. This is so awkward, but she's genuinely upset and I feel the need to be here for her. How am I going to explain this to Chloe?

Victoria manages to control herself long enough to speak. "Don't worry about it. It's just something between Maxine and me. I was hoping she would be here."

"I see," I say apprehensively. I look into Victoria's eyes, which are red and dripping tears. She buries her face in her hands and continues to sob. Where did Victoria get all of these bruises from? Is someone after her? Did she get in a fight with Nathan or Jefferson? What the hell?

"Victoria? What's with all of these bruises? Who would do this to you?" I hold my friend, trying to calm her down.

"You…" Victoria manages to say through her tears. Me? I haven't been here in awhile. She must mean Maxine. I know that she's a pretty different person than me, but I wouldn't have guessed that she could be capable of this. Does this mean that I am capable of doing this? Will I end up hurting Chloe? No, I know I'm not like this. My heart breaks for Victoria. She thought she found love, only for her girlfriend to turn out to be an abusive bitch.

"I'm so sorry." My apology seems so insufficient now. I can't say anything to make this better. I continue to hold Victoria as I fight off a strong urge to distance myself from her.

"Not... your fault. I... probably deserved... this anyway…". Victoria turns away from me as I think that she is ashamed. I soon learn the real reason. "You… should get… dressed. You… are with… Chloe… not me." Even through her weeping, I can tell that the last few words were especially hard for Victoria to say.

I look around and find some matching silk robes lying on the floor. I put one on and return the other to Victoria. "I'm here for you," I say as I embrace her and cover her with the robe. "You did not deserve any of this. Maxine is a monster for hurting you."

Victoria turns to look at me with anger flashing in her eyes. "She's not a monster! She saved my life. I owe her everything. Sure, she has some issues, but we will work through them. I shouldn't have provoked her."

"Nothing you have done can possibly justify hurting you like that," I say with astonishment.

The Queen Bee shakes her head. "Maxine took some shots of the devastation around town as a special correspondent for _The Oregonian_. She was developing her shots in a dark room when I came in, wanting her attention. I ended up fucking up hours of her work. I would be pissed at me too. This was such a huge deal for her."

"I understand why she was mad, but that doesn't give her the right to abuse you. You don't have to take this from her, Victoria. I know she saved you, but you can't let her hurt you." I want to shake Victoria from whatever spell Maxine has cast on her. She deserves better than to be treated like this.

"You don't understand," Victoria responds. "I am nothing without Maxine. She's everything to me. I'm just an insecure bitch without her in my life, and she's made me into such a better person. Besides, Maxine is good, just flawed, and she deserves all the love that I can give her. She needs me just as much as I need her."

I am clearly not going to be able to talk her out of being with Maxine. Maybe I can make life easier for her then. I'm doing her no favors by being here, and I feel especially guilty because I am sorta now here by choice. I could have left these timeline jumps behind me, but I selfishly had to be with Chloe again. Even though I can't forgive her for what she's done to Victoria, Maxine also doesn't deserve me swooping in and fucking things up.

Victoria glares at me as I ponder what to say next to get her to give up on this insanity. "Just drop it, Max. You aren't helping me. Honestly, it was just one stupid fight. She's not like this."

I start to open my mouth to protest but quickly shut it. I can't think of anything to say to persuade her to leave her girlfriend, so I decide to quit before I lose a friend. I quickly change the subject. "Why would the paper even hire Maxine? I'm sure they aren't eager to employ someone charged with murder or whatever."

"All of the charges were dropped," Victoria replies. "No evidence left after the storm, but those assholes should have let you off sooner. We had to grease some palms to expedite matters. Afterwards, _The Oregonian_ hired Maxine once I set it up. They were eager to get the perspective of a Blackwell student."

"When are the photos due? Me being here probably screws that up." I shake my head. I keep unintentionally making things more difficult for everyone.

Victoria deeply sighs. "They are due at the end of the day. Maxine is going to miss that deadline because of all of this."

"Well, it looks like we will have to take care of this for her," I wink at Victoria. I don't want to be any more of a burden on their lives than I need to be. With Victoria's help, I know that we can do this.

"That would be fun," Victoria manages a smile. "Thanks Max. I'm sure that Maxine would appreciate this."

"Well, I don't want to be more of a burden on you guys than necessary. I would be happy to help. I'm just not sure if my work is at all as good as Maxine's, but you have genuine talent. I'm sure we can do this together." I am looking forward to spending the day with my new friend as I had a lot of fun the last time we were together. Sure, I would much rather be with my girlfriend, but this is a good consolation prize.

"You so aren't a burden," Victoria reassures me. "You said the last time you were here that you can't control being in this timeline. Besides, I like having you here. Let's go into town. I'm sure your work is just as good as Maxine's. You two are more like than you know." Victoria picks up a small camera bag and examines its exterior forlornly. Maybe she hasn't been out to shoot for a while either.

As I imagine the purple bruises running along Victoria's body and Maxine landing blow after blow on my friend, her comment unnerves me.

* * *

We take Victoria's coupe into town. As Arcadia Bay was written off by its former residents, the town hasn't changed since I last saw it. Victoria frowns as we enter the devastated bay, and I can hear her mumble "I'm sorry." She must feel as guilty as I do for all of this.

We head down the main drag along the shore and stop at the remains of the Two Whales. We get out of the car and open the trunk, taking out my camera bag. I open it to find an old Olympus OM-1. I smile at myself as I take the camera out of the bag. Even in another reality, I can't bring myself to the digital revolution and stubbornly use an analog rig. There's just something about the way the silver film reacts to light that can't be replicated by a computer, and film has a mysterious quality to it as you don't really know how your shot has come out until it's developed. I also snobbishly feel that I have to take much more care with film as I don't have unlimited shots. Compact and lightweight for an SLR 35mm, Maxine's camera is perfect for travel. I wonder if she and Victoria jet set anywhere exotic. I've always wanted to travel the world in search of breathtaking landscapes.

I then inspect the camera closer and notice that the body is marked "M-1," which is the original name for the camera before it was changed to OM-1 because a competing brand already had an M-1. As only about 50,000 were ever made, this is a pretty rare piece. Victoria sees me mouth "are you cereal?" as I notice this, and she smiles as she tells me it was a gift from her. Wow, this is so sweet. We are such photo nerds.

I attach the appropriate Zuiko lens, also with an M-1 mark, and I look through the generous viewfinder and crack a huge smile. It's really been way too long since I've done this. Then I'm assaulted by images of Jefferson taking shots of me in the Dark Room and killing Chloe. Fuck Jefferson for taking this away from me. I'm not going to let him win anymore. Victoria gives me a reassuring touch on my shoulder, and I shoot her a smile to tell her that I'm fine. My friend sighs and remarks that all of this probably just reminds me of the Dark Room and that asshole Jefferson. I nod and let her know that I'm ready to do this for me. She smiles and mentions that she has avoided Jefferson and Nathan since my last visit, and she isn't sure what they are up to now. I'm glad she took my warning to heart. Hopefully, she won't ever appear in a red binder.

Operating the fully manual M-1 takes some getting used to, but I really enjoy the no frills machine. I find the lack of an auto exposure and the fact that the viewfinder doesn't display shutter speed or aperture to be endearing, though I'm sure Victoria is probably just annoyed by those "flaws." I think she is firmly planted in the digital side. Victoria fiddles with her camera bag constantly, but she refuses to use her own camera. She keeps saying it wouldn't capture the same type of images that my camera takes. I wonder why she brought it with her in the first place if she refuses to use it.

We take turns shooting the ruins of the Two Whales and the surrounding area. I make sure to take a photo of the lettering, which used to say "diner" and now appropriately says "die." Maybe that's a bit too on the nose, but let's see how it turns out. During Victoria's turns with the camera, she grumbles about using ancient tech and outdated methods, but I'm sure she's taking some gorgeous shots as she handles the camera expertly.

* * *

As we get ready to move to the next location for our photo series, we are met by a blue station wagon swerving in the street before it blocks in Victoria's coupe. Victoria is about to go tell the driver off when I see William exit the vehicle. What the hell? Why would he want anything to do with us?

William stumbles out of the car, and empty beer bottles follow him. He locks his gaze on me and doesn't waver, even given his difficulty in freeing himself from his car. Victoria moves to intercept him as her protective instinct for Maxine kicks in. "YOU!" William yells with a slur as Victoria stays between us. "You ruined my life."

"Whoa, calm down, William," I say with hesitation. I need to descalate the situation.

"NO!" William angrily replies, his cheeks flushed. "You fucked everything. Why my daughter?!"

"She wanted to die, William. I had to honor her wishes. It was the only bit of control she had left over her life." I nervously fidget with the camera slung over my neck.

William lurches forward, pulling a revolver from his coat as he does so. "Cops won't give justice me, so I will."

"Back off, asshole," Victoria snarls at William as she tries to wrestle the gun out of his grasp.

William is surprised by the sudden movement and a bullet screams out of the barrel, hitting Victoria in the stomach. She falls to the ground in a puddle of red, and William hurries back to his car in a haze, shocked by the sudden turn of events.

Flashbacks of the bathroom come to me. Nathan rushed into the bathroom as I sat there, helpless. After a storm of words and accusations, my love was lying dead. Now, I stand here dumbfounded as my new friend is drifting away from this reality. Why didn't I step in earlier? Everything went so fast that I didn't even think about using my power. I failed to protect those close to me again. Though, I can easily fix this now with a simple rewind. Should I?

Am I going to cause another storm if I do? It's already happened once in this reality as saving Victoria summoned the first tornado. How many people will have to die and suffer so I won't know the pain of losing someone else close to me? Can I really make this choice again? Thoughts spin out in my head, overwhelming me to the point of indecision. Why didn't I think of this the first time I saved Victoria in the Dark Room? I guess Jefferson has a way of screwing with me.

Victoria smiles at me and coughs up some blood. I get close, holding her as she dies. "Max… I love... you. Please... don't save... me. Not… hurting… anyone else." Victoria drifts off, leaving me alone with my decision.

What the fuck?! I have to make this choice again? These goddamn powers are just a burden. How can I do this again? I don't want to see Victoria die because I froze at the worst possible moment, but I also don't want to be the cause of more death and destruction. But in my heart I know that there is only one choice I can make. I can't go through this again. Forgive me.

I turn my camera on myself and snap a quick picture, just in case. I carefully get up, removing my bloodstained shirt in the process. I then raise my right hand and move the world around me. William's car returns to its parking spot, and William stumbles out of his car backwards, moving towards the spot where Victoria lies. He turns around, drawing his revolver. The bullet leaves Victoria and flies towards William's gun as Victoria falls back to a standing position, wrestling with Chloe's father. The blood on my shirt, along with the blood splattered elsewhere, returns to my friend. My head starts pounding, but I push the rewind further. William walks backward towards his car, awkwardly gets in, and swerves away backward down the road. I push the rewind until the car is out of sight and let go as my power migraine becomes too intense.

I immediately grab Victoria and tell her that we need to get out of sight. We do so as my friend gives me a sideways look when she notices me put my newly clean shirt back on. William's car swerves, barely missing her coupe as it parks near the Two Whales. Chloe's father leaves the vehicle and crumples down next to the ruins of the diner. We can hear him sob, asking Joyce to forgive him for wanting revenge for his daughter. We wait for a while, and William eventually leaves. We take the coupe and move to the lighthouse.

* * *

We arrive at the lighthouse after a long, silent trip. I could tell Victoria had so many questions about what just happened and why I looked so upset, but she must have known that I was in no place to answer any of them. Instead, I held my friend's right hand to reassure her that I would be fine.

Victoria and I continue with portraying the desolation left behind by the storm that came to balance things after Victoria's life was saved. How is letting an entire town be destroyed and the lives of so many considered balance? I keep having to make these stupid, impossible choices. Whether to let someone live when I could easily save them or risk something terrible. What is the point of these powers if I can't use them to prevent the people close to me from needless suffering?

I remember the last time I was here, how I was forced to make my first fucked up decision. I picture Chloe, drenched from the storm's rainfall, begging me to let her die so I could live free of a guilty conscience. She didn't actually want to die, of course, but she couldn't see another way out. She felt that she had to offer herself up for the town, just as I felt I had to let her follow through. Would things be better if I made a different choice? Sure, I would have Chloe around, but maybe the timeline in which Arcadia Bay survives never exists. All of those people would have truly died in that storm. Then again, maybe the storm was just meant to happen, and I was meant to have powers to save my love. I can't believe the universe would force me to choose again. I keep telling myself that I don't know what will be the consequences of saving this Victoria, and I have a photo to fix things if I need to. But can I really use that photo if it came down to it? Victoria is not Chloe, so it might be easier to make the "right" choice, but I don't know if I have it in me to just do nothing again.

I get lost in my thoughts for a few moments, but a touch on my shoulder shakes me back to the present. I line up a few shots of the town from this vantage point. It's easy to make out the general devastation that the storm wrought on Arcadia Bay from here. I give the camera to Victoria, and she takes a few more photos.

As we are about to leave, Victoria stops me. "Max, seriously, what happened back there?"

"I can't talk about it right now," I wave her off. "Give me some time to sort this out." I can still picture her dying next to the diner rubble, bleeding out from a stomach wound that I failed to prevent. I'm then reminded of seeing another version of her get shot in the head in the Dark Room as I was showered in her blood.

"Okay, well, that's not really a luxury we have. Who knows how much longer you will be here?" Victoria looks up at me as if hoping that I will let her in on my secret.

"Shit, you are right," I say as I take out my phone. I try to open it, but there's now a passcode. Good thing I can set an alarm from the lock screen. "Hey, my phone is locked, but I was able to set an alarm. I think I have about four more hours left here if we woke up around 10."

"How do you know that?" Victoria asks, perplexed.

"That's about how much time I will sleep before my alarm in Blackwell goes off. It worked in another time to give me some warning about when I'll leave. We will talk before I leave. I do owe you that much."

"Hopefully you can find your way back to your Chloe," Victoria says as she gives me a wide smile, but I can tell that she is trying too hard to appear upbeat. "It must really suck to be separated from her like this. I miss Maxine, but at least I have you around in the meantime. You two are so alike but different."

It's been weird how Victoria has been acting around me. Comments like this make me wonder if she sees me as something more than just a friend. She did say she loved me as she was dying, but is that really how she feels about me or did she just see Maxine as she was drifting off? She does keep saying how similar I am to her girlfriend, so I guess it wouldn't be hard for her to fall for me. Do I say anything? I think she knows there are boundaries between us, so maybe I should just avoid that awkward conversation.

We finish taking shots of the lighthouse and the view of the bay. We then take a short drive to Blackwell to end our shoot. _The Oregonian_ hired Maxine in part because she was a student there, and the art school really dominated the town. We need to capture its destruction to really show the devastation that the storm caused.

* * *

After some time, we finish up with shooting Blackwell and head back to the hotel. Victoria explained that Maxine had set up an improvised darkroom in their bathroom to develop her first set of shots. We make the room as light proof as possible and start developing our day's work.

As photos spring into life, I'm surprised by how well some of my shots have come out considering I haven't really touched a camera in a while. Victoria makes sure to give me some nice words of encouragement as she looks over my shoulder. Eventually, one photo develops that is a selfie of me with a pool of blood, blonde hair, and a limp arm visible in the background.

"What the fuck?" Victoria reacts as she sees the photo. "So this is why you didn't want to talk earlier. Was I dead? Did that drunk kill me?"

"Umm… yeah," I sheepishly say, afraid of how Victoria will react once she realizes that I likely saved her against her wishes.

The Queen Bee pauses and thinks. Her expression darkens, and she assaults me with a flurry of questions, each landing harder than the previous one. "Why the fuck did you use your powers to save me? Don't you remember what happened the first time you did that? How could you be so careless? What the hell were you thinking? Do you not care about killing innocent people?"

"I held you as you were dying, and you begged me not to save you after you said that you loved me. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't lose someone else when I could prevent it." I look away from her in shame. She's right. I should have let her die instead of putting who-knows-how-many people at risk. Instead, I chose to use my powers for me.

"I asked you not to save me, but you did anyway?!" Victoria furiously yells. "Christ, Max, you _knew_ that saving me won't turn out well, but you still did it. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Sorry for saving your life?" I defensively ask.

"It's not about that, Max. Now I am going to have to live with more guilt whenever the coming storm or whatever the hell it is kills more people. Shit, I've been barely coping as is." Victoria's tone shifts from anger to melancholy.

"Sorry. It was wrong of me not to respect your wishes, but I couldn't just do nothing. I've done that before, and it just destroyed me. Look, Maxine needs to be a part of this anyway. She's pissed at me now? What if you died? I can use that photo to go back and undo my rewind. If she and you decide that's for the best, then I'll do it."

Victoria calms down and smiles. "Thanks, Max. I don't know if I can live with being the cause of so much death and destruction again. Who knows? Maybe we will get lucky, and there won't be any more storms." Victoria picks up her unused camera bag and opens it, revealing syringes and small bottles filled with a clear liquid. I recoil at the sight as it brings back unwanted memories of the Dark Room to the top of my mind. "Maxine wanted me to use these on you as a way to force you out of her body. She's going to be so pissed now, but I just couldn't bring myself to hurt you. You are such a good person, Max. You are so kind, caring, and compassionate. What kind of person would I be if I harmed someone like that?"

"You've been debating this all day, haven't you?" I ask, knowing the answer to my question. It's now obvious why Victoria has been constantly looking back at her camera bag. I thought it was for a longing to get back into photography, but now I realize she was filled with guilt over what she thought she had to do. It's creepy as fuck that Maxine has those drugs.

My friend answers my obvious question with a slight nod, her shame now plain on her face. She turns away from me. "I'm sorry that I didn't mention anything before, but honestly I wasn't sure what to do until just now. The last thing I want to do is betray Maxine, but it looks like I just don't have the heart to do whatever she wants me to."

We finish up developing and select the best ones to submit to the paper. We then go down to the business center near the hotel's lobby to scan in the photos and email them to the paper. Victoria then gives them a call to confirm they received everything.

"Hello, this is Victoria Chase for Mr. Adams." As Victoria gets placed on hold, she gives me a very exaggerated yawn. A few minutes pass before she speaks again. "What are you saying? You don't want Miss Caulfield's photos? They were due today."

Victoria shakes her head as Mr. Adams explains his position, then it sounds like she interrupts him. "Look, those charges were dropped. Haven't you ever heard of innocent until proven guilty? I would hate for you to make a mistake that would cause me to advise my parents to rescind their support of the paper."

Victoria begins to smile as apparently Mr. Adams changed positions. I'm sure newspapers aren't doing well right now, so they probably need all the wealthy benefactors they can get. "Yes, I will tell Maxine that you apologize. Have a good evening." Victoria hangs up the phone as my alarm sounds.

"Don't you feel the least bit dirty by throwing around your family's influence like that?" I ask.

"Look, the art game is brutal. You win or you don't get work. Hmm… not as catchy as 'you win or you die.'" Victoria holds one of my hands. "It sucks that you have to leave so soon. It never feels that I get enough time with you."

"Yeah, well, you will have Maxine back. So yay?" I give my friend a shrug.

"Yeah, but you will be gone. So, mixed feelings. You were incredible today, Max. And by the way, thanks for saving my life. Not sure why you care about an alternate universe Victoria, but I appreciate it. I just hope it didn't come with a cost."

"No problem. I won't forget my promise either. Just let me know the next time I'm here." I stagger as a wave of fatigue hits me. "It's… almost time."

Victoria kisses the hand she is holding. "Au revoir, mon petit chouchou."

* * *

 **Thursday, October 16, 2013**

 _No Chloe last night, but at least it was Victoria. I feel so bad for her. Not only does she have to deal with guilt for being the reason why Arcadia Bay is in ruins, but the one person who she is supposed to be able to trust above all is abusive._

 _Another day of classes, another day of dealing with awkward glances as people tiptoe around me. I'm honestly still a little surprised that people give a shit after what happened to Kate during the week that never was, but I guess it's different because Chloe died in front of me?_

 _I hang out with my parents for the rest of the day, and we have dinner with Joyce and David. There was an awkward moment where I called Joyce "mom" and confused the hell out of my actual mother. I don't think she likes hearing me call anyone else that, but she didn't say anything other than using my full first name more than usual. She must do that as a way to troll me. Joyce and David offer to let me stay over again, but I turn them down. Tonight has to be the night that I am finally reunited with my girlfriend._

I lie in bed, thinking of my blue-haired angel. I can't believe how much I love her, how much I need her. Is she feeling the same way? What has other me done with her? I wish I could get answers tonight. I just lie there with my eyes closed, trying to suppress my excitement so I can actually fall asleep. After a bit, I do.

* * *

I awake up and immediately open my eyes. I have to know. I find myself in my room in Seattle, just like how I remember leaving it back in September. No Chloe here. I rush out of my room, still in my pajamas, to the guest room down the hall. My hand lingers on the doorknob as I silently pray to whoever will listen to please, please let me find Chloe in there. I open the door.

 **A/N:**

For whatever reason, this chapter took me awhile to write. Sometimes, ideas just come to me while I'm writing. Other times, it's less organic. Still, posting this a bit early because it was ready. I'm trying to post a chapter each weekend, and I currently have Chapter 10 written. That chapter isn't ready for publication as my editor still needs to review it. This story is immeasurably better because of those edits, so it will be worth the wait. It will likely go up sometime next week.

We don't know much about William other than the couple scenes with him in the game and what's said by other characters. It appears though that he is quite the family man as he does all he can for Chloe in the alternate timeline, and he has a self-help parenting book in his nightstand. Losing both Chloe and Joyce in a few days could absolutely wreck him.

Victoria's reaction at being saved is what many people think Chloe should have had in the bae ending. I disagree with that view as I see Chloe offering to sacrifice herself as a way to let Max live without guilt. Chloe didn't actually want to die there as she tells Max that she knows Max will make the right choice, even if it is saving her, and when Max does choose to sacrifice her, she tells Max to go before she freaks. If Chloe was certain that her death was what needed to happen, she never would have framed it as a decision. Instead, she would have jumped off the cliff by the lighthouse to force Max to use the photo.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

I open the door. Chloe is asleep on the guest bed, softly snoring to herself. I almost drop down to my knees with relief. It's been a long journey, but she's finally back with me. I run onto the bed and kiss my girlfriend, who was actually asleep this time. She awakens and pulls back from me immediately. "Max, we talked about this. I can't be with you."

The guest bedroom is decorated in a very feminine style, with pastel pink paint, a white, intentionally distressed metal bed frame, and a pastel green nightstand. My mother has a thing for shabby chic, but limits her urge to decorate to this room only. Needless to say, it's weird to have Chloe in here. I can tell she's not too into it as the dolls that were on top of the dresser are thrown into the closet. Not that I blame her. Those dolls always creeped me out.

Chloe notices the confusion and hurt etched on my face. "Max, is that really you? What did I tell you before our first kiss?"

"I double dare you, kiss me now," I say, smiling at the memory. I have that photo of taken right before that moment when Chloe photobombed me. It's very tempting to use it to jump back to that kiss again and again. But, if I did, it would lose its magic and would be just another moment. It's probably for the best that this lives only in our memories.

As soon as I answer Chloe, she pulls me close and gives me a deep kiss. I can feel the intense longing on her lips, and I match it by caressing her tongue with mine. It's been way too long. We stay locked together for a while, neither of us wanting to be the one who moves to break free. Surprisingly, I don't notice any cigarette smoke in her kiss. It's just some morning breath, which I could care less about. I revel in Chloe's embrace, and all of the anger, confusion, and pain that these last few days have built in me melt away with her kiss. I finally move my face apart from hers. "Damn, Price. A few days gone, and you are all over me."

"Well, you did _double_ dare me," Chloe smirks as she gazes into my eyes. "That was a very hard dare to accept by the way. You should be proud of me. Truth or dare, Super Max."

I am really, _really_ tempted to answer dare as Chloe would undoubtedly make me do something perverted to her, and that sounds like win-win. She's also probably expecting me to answer truth anyway, but I don't think I'm in the mood to delve into all of the shit that's gone on during the last few days. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, all I can see is Jefferson blowing Victoria's head off all over me or her face after I rewound her ear away. I am tired of that asshole owning my thoughts. After the last few days, I need some good memories with my girlfriend. I thought I would be more worried about this, but I am strangely calm. Besides, who knows how much longer I'll have to wait before I'm in this timeline again? What the hell. "Dare, of course."

"Ooh la la," Chloe purrs, her eyes twinkling mischievously. I can tell that she's excited about having control over the situation. I'm sure it's not easy dating someone with superpowers. She's so wonderful. "Now I have you right where I want you, Caulfield."

"Oh uh," I feign horror, putting my hands over my mouth in mock shock. "Should I be worried? What are you going to have me do that will corrupt me forever?"

"You are probably just going to rewind if I make you do something you don't like and then lamely answer truth," Chloe sighs as she realizes I have the perfect out to her evil plans.

"Promise I won't," I say as I cross my fingers in front of her before crossing my heart. "I am in your capable hands, though I'm sure I'm not _quite_ where you want me." I kiss Chloe's neck, which elicits a soft, teasing moan. Maybe I should be more nervous about this, but I'm done with denying what I want with Chloe. Ironically, I don't have the time for that.

"I was going to say I'll hold you to that, but I won't remember in case you do cheat. Still, it's nice to feel like I have the power for once." Chloe rubs her hands together excitedly. "Okay, now for the perfect dare."

Chloe gets up, takes my hand, and leads me back into my room, locking the door behind us. "That room freaks me out. This is so much better."

My room in Seattle is similar to my dorm room, with band posters, a wall of photos, and pictures of my idols. A couple windows let in the soft morning light. It must still be early as it is not that bright out.

"So about that dare…" I say as I tug on my pajamas suggestively. I am really looking forward to this.

Chloe smiles at me, but instead of giving me a dare, she sits me down on my bed and gives me a concerned look. "Are you okay with anything I dare you to do? We haven't really been together long, so I understand if you need time. I'm a little impatient, if you can believe that. Even though I've pictured this after romancing the hell out of you, I just want you now."

I can see Chloe squirm on the bed, clearly anxious. "Yeah, I'm ready, my love. I need you too after the last few days. I don't know when I'll be back, and I don't want to wait any longer."

Chloe blushes, something she's not prone to do. It's weird but cute. "One more thing."

I groan. "What? Just give me your dare already."

"Other you has been crushing on me hard," Chloe says somberly. "We haven't done much other than her trapping me with kisses in front of your parents. I can't really get out of that. But she's threatened to hurt herself if I don't return her affections. I'm not sure what to do. If she does, I'll have to visit you in the hospital or… morgue… once you come back. If I give in, I'll be cheating on you."

That's fucked up. What the hell is wrong with these other versions of me? First, Maxine turns out to be a sadistic bitch, and now the other me in this timeline is forcing herself on Chloe. I should be as supportive as possible with my girlfriend. "Well, I'm fine with whatever choice you make. I'll know you will make the right one." I smile and whisper in her ear. "I guess this means you will forgive me for waking up naked with Victoria."

"WHAT?" Chloe explodes.

"Yeah, timeline jump into a universe in which I'm dating her. I guess couples do that?"

"I was hoping that you would do that with me, but I guess that's never happening." Chloe frowns at the thought, but she quickly cheers up. "But no one can take this away from us." Chloe takes off her pajamas.

"Whoa…" I mutter in surprise. I can't manage to say anything else for a few seconds as I marvel at my girlfriend. "Umm, I thought the point of a dare was to get _me_ to do something."

"Getting to that," Chloe smirks. "Now, I double _dog_ dare you, kiss me now."

"That's it?" I query in bewilderment. I give her a long, passionate kiss. I finally pull away from her after some effort. "I would have done something different, but your dare, I guess."

"No, Max. I didn't want you to kiss me there." Chloe has the biggest grin on her face.

"What? Where else would I… Oh!" I raise an eyebrow at the thought. I guess it's time. I never wanted something more than how much I want this. I need to be close with Chloe. I undress and then fulfill the dare before giving her one of my own.

* * *

"Wowser," Chloe exhales afterwards. "Just… wowser." She is drenched in sweat as she lays motionless on my bed.

"Did you just say 'wowser?'" I say with exaggerated shock. "I'm a bad good influence on you." I would be just as out of breath as my girlfriend right now if I didn't give myself a nice rewind break afterwards.

"It's... that Irish luck... again, Caulfield," Chloe barely says as she is breathless.

"Whatever do you mean?" I lean over her, kissing her neck.

"Lucky… that I… don't have… energy to… punch you." My kisses are making speech even more difficult for my girlfriend.

I respond by snuggling close to Chloe, enjoying the sensation of my bare skin touching hers. "That was perfect, thanks. I love you so much. I guess by your catatonic state that I wasn't too bad?"

"Best bang ever," Chloe breaths as she wraps her arms around me. "Love you too."

"Wish you wouldn't call it that. But I guess that's what I should expect from someone as romantic as you." I wink at Chloe, though I don't think she notices much of anything right now.

"Best fuck ever?" Chloe corrects herself as she regains her breath.

"Thanks, so much better," I say sarcastically.

"It's what I'm here for," Chloe smiles. She then notices dried blood under my nose. "What the hell?"

"Yeah, well… I did cheat a bit so I knew exactly what you liked. Lots of trial and mostly error, though I made sure the final timeline was perfect for you. Sorry not sorry." I shoot my girlfriend a mischievous grin.

"You don't have to be perfect, Max. I love you for your imperfections, you know, and I'm so lucky to have you," Chloe says before she playfully punches me in the arm. "Your luck just ran out though. Don't you dare rewind that."

* * *

We sneak into the bathroom together to take a shower to get rid of the evidence of our morning shenanigans. I immediately regret taking a shower with her as we can't keep our hands to ourselves, and the shower takes much longer than it should.

Afterwards, we get dressed and hurry downstairs. Chloe tells me that we need to rush to make it to school on time. Yes, Chloe is going to school with me in Seattle. It's pretty awesome.

My parents are sitting at the breakfast table and don't seem to notice us come downstairs. Oh crap. We were not quiet at all. I hope they didn't hear anything.

"Morning, pumpkin," dad says as he sees us.

"Morning, pop," I say sheepishly. Does he know?

Dad feigns surprise. "Oh, hey Max. Morning to you too."

I turn to my girlfriend with confusion. "Pumpkin? Did you steal my parents, Miss Price?"

"Not my fault I'm so much more awesome than you," Chloe winks at me. "Surprised you forgot that Ryan calls me that. Guess you are repressing things."

"I made you girls some breakfast tacos to take with you," mom adds. She's so amazing. I remember her making me food in the morning even though she's usually really busy with work. Mom is wearing her standard work clothes, a black skirt suit with a white dress shirt. She calls it her lawyer costume.

We pick up the tacos and start to make our way out of the house. Good, dad didn't say anything. I think we are in the clear.

"Oh, Maxine?" mom calls to me.

"Yes?" I turn around to face her.

"Glad you and Chloe are having fun, but could you try to be a bit more quiet when you are doing activities in your room?" Mom says all of this with a straight face.

The color drains from me, and I just stand there, speechless. Crap. Too late for a rewind, not that I would want to erase any of the morning. What the hell can I possibly say? This is so, so embarrassing. Chloe sort of comes to my rescue. "No problem, Vanessa," she nonchalantly says. "She was embarrassing in the motel too, so we will tone it down." Chloe takes my hand and leads me out the door before I can say something stupid.

As we leave, I hear mom telling pop: "I see why you like to say things to get reactions. That was hilarious." Dad answers with a hearty laugh.

* * *

We take Chloe's truck into town from my parents' home in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle. On our way to school, I confide in Chloe about how fucked up the last few days without her were. I tell her about Jefferson and the Dark Room and how he figured out my powers. Chloe gets really pissed off when she hears about that shit, and she nearly swerves off the road when making a turn. She's not the best driver to begin with, but she's really terrible when angry. I remember her almost taking out two cars as she was peeling out of the Two Whales after she found out Rachel hooked up with Frank.

I then talk to her about Dr. Price and my stay in the psychiatric ward. I don't say much other than I was married to Jefferson, and it turned out to just be a nightmare like the one I had next to the lighthouse.

Chloe turns onto Interstate 5 and heads south towards Garfield High. I went to Garfield before transferring to Blackwell, so it shouldn't be too weird going back. I suggested just skipping today, but Chloe insisted on being there. Go figure she's the responsible one. She did say that she wanted to kick ass at school now that I'm in her future.

Chloe then listens to me talk about being in Arcadia General and how I told Warren about my powers. She seemed surprised when I said that my jumps were somehow tied to my dorm room, and her surprise quickly turned into a deep melancholy. When I asked her what the big deal was, she answered that my timeline jumps will end as soon as I graduate. Of course, how could I not see that sooner? Fuck, does this mean I'll lose Chloe forever? I don't know if I could handle that again.

My girlfriend turns off the interstate and stops the truck. At this point, I'm barely holding it all together. I've had to deal with so much shit just to get this little time with Chloe, and now in a few months I will lose her all over again. What the fuck is so wrong with us being together? Chloe puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a reassuring smile. I'm sure she's just as broken inside as I am, but she always manages to put on a brave face for me.

After a few minutes of idling, Chloe proposes that we take a road trip to Arcadia Bay to investigate the ruins of my dorm. She suggests that it is possible that there's something there that could help us understand what is going on with me. After teasing her about being responsible, we agree to skip a day of class.

We get back on the interstate and zoom past the exit for Garfield. The Blackwell PIs are back in action! Chloe has constantly talked about going on a road trip together, and I am excited that we are finally able to make it happen.

As we make our way out of the city, Chloe grumbles about making up the work missed today and having to call Victoria to get some notes. It's so weird to see her like this, on top of everything. Chloe explains that Victoria survived the storm by being in San Francisco after winning the Everyday Heroes contest. Apparently, she goes to Garfield too as her parents are also in Seattle. I would have expected her to go to someplace fancier, but maybe she needed to be close to friends. I guess we are as close to friends as it gets with so many dead from the storm.

I decide that our road trip needs a soundtrack, so I scroll through the music on my phone and play Guster's "Amsterdam." Chloe's truck is of course lacking a stereo, so my phone will have to do. After Chloe makes a quip about my hipster music, I put the track on repeat and crank up the volume, which causes her to groan about my annoying habit of listening to the same song over and over. I keep my phone away from her as she tries to grab it away from me, swerving into the shoulder as she does so.

* * *

We eventually decide to stop for some lunch as the breakfast tacos only hold us over for so long. Chloe spots a diner off the interstate, and we pull over. I don't know what it is about diners with us. I guess Chloe likes them because they remind her of her mother.

I don't have high hopes for this backwater restaurant as the paint is peeling off the building and there's a very noticeable creak as we open the wooden door. We are welcomed by a middle-aged waitress and directed to a booth. I notice that Chloe gets some looks from the staff and some of the other patrons because of her punk style. Chloe doesn't pay them any attention as I'm sure she's used to getting such a reception.

She jump slides into her seat and eagerly grabs a menu that stands next to the salt, pepper, and napkins at the end of the table. "Order anything you want, my love. It's on me."

"You are so sweet. How did I get to be so lucky to have you fall for me?" I ask, somewhat seriously. I am honestly a little baffled why someone as amazing as Chloe could find a shy nerd like me so attractive.

Chloe smiles, clearly enjoying being alone in my company. "Max, a lot of people think you are hot, not just me. I've had to hold off nerd boy, and now I hear the Queen Bitch of Blackwell may be trying to move in on my territory. Fuck, if anyone's lucky, it's me. I was a raging high school dropout with no future and little in the way of friends. It's a miracle that you fell for me."

I hold Chloe's hand and return her smile. "Chloe, you are a special person, and everyone else is blind if they can't see that. You are so smart, loving, and kind. Not to mention hella gorgeous. Anyone would be fortunate to know you, much less win your heart."

My girlfriend beams at the compliments. "Well, I am going to try hard to be worthy of you."

The waitress comes over, interrupting our sappy exchange. She reminds me a bit of Joyce, with long dirty blonde hair and a motherly demeanor. She's not wearing a waitress uniform but rather jeans and a t-shirt. The only things marking her as an employee are her name tag and some grease stains on her shirt. She speaks in a friendly, welcoming voice. "Name's Darlene. What can I do you for?"

"Coffee," we both quickly respond in unison. We didn't get to drink any this morning as we rushed out of the house, and we need our fix.

Darlene nods and heads back to the kitchen before quickly returning with our coffee. We then tell her we need a few minutes to decide on food before she leaves.

Chloe's grin disappears. "How's mom?" she asks hesitantly as she scans the menu.

"She's good. She helped me get to the hospital after I blacked out in my dorm room. But I think she's trying to set me up with Victoria." I take a menu and start looking it over. Pretty sure I don't need it as all diners should have a good burger.

Chloe slams her fist on the table, jarring the silverware. "That bitch!" She loudly yells. The diner goes silent as everyone in the restaurant turns to us. Chloe starts to flip everyone off but bites her lip and backs off. I quickly apologize, and people resume their conversations.

"Sorry, Max," Chloe says sincerely while looking at the table. "Guess I shouldn't be too mad at her trying to help you over me, but Victoria of all people?"

"Well, she did give me an amazing photo album of your favorite places in Arcadia Bay after she confessed her love for me, so she's not all bad," I tease my bae.

"Wait, _another_ Victoria loves you? See, Max? You are so hot that everyone's into you. God, I'm going to have to keep you separated from her at school." Chloe scratches her chin in thought.

"Good thing I'm only into blue-haired punk girls," I reassure Chloe.

"Don't tell me that there's someone else with my look in another timeline," Chloe jokes. "I may have to cut a bitch."

"Well…" I begin.

Chloe's eyes widen. "Really?! Who else has incredibly good taste? Please tell me you found an alternate Kate who looks like me." Chloe is practically bouncing in her seat in excitement.

I laugh at the thought of Kate in Chloe's gear. "No, it's me, sort of. You see, I saw pictures of me dressed like you while I was in the nuthouse. I even sported your tattoo. They were trying to convince me that you were just a part of me."

Chloe vigorously shakes her head. "That makes no sense. You are way too hipster for me."

"Hmm… Never mind that you are totally into me, and I know that you secretly love my music. I saw you humming along to my tunes in the truck."

Chloe pauses for a few seconds, clearly trying to think of a comeback after she was caught. "You got me, sweetie," my girlfriend throws her hands in the air. "You are actually insane, and I'm merely the completely awesome side of your personality. I guess this means I'm Tyler Durden. Congratulations?"

Darlene comes over and we place our orders. I get a burger, fries, and a milkshake while Chloe gets a cesar salad. "You, Chloe Elizabeth Price, are getting a salad? Am I actually in some bizarro timeline?" I've never seen her eat anything with that high of a concentration of green. Not that I should judge too much.

Chloe shoots me a wounded look. "Hey, I can be healthy every now and then."

"Says the girl who noshes on bacon as if it was its own food group."

"It isn't?" my blue-haired bae responds as she moves her hands over her mouth. "Seriously though, I need to take care of myself. I have a future with you that I would like to see."

I remember all of the rage and hurt that Chloe has been harboring since I've reconnected with her. How she felt abandoned by the universe and how tomorrow was going to be just as shitty as yesterday. Now, she has real hope for a bright future because of me. A smile bursts into my face, and I lean over the table to give her a long kiss. We get some stares, but I don't care. "I love you so much."

Chloe ignores everyone else as she looks at me. "You are just saying that because of that amazing kiss."

A mischievous grin leaps onto my face, and I raise my right hand, willing time and space to warp around me. I see Chloe leaning towards me, kissing the air, and then lean back into her seat. I release the rewind. "I love you so much."

My girlfriend smiles. "I love you too, though that seemed a bit random."

"Well, I said that after this kiss that was amazeballs, but you had to ruin it by saying that the only reason I said it was that kiss."

"Okay, two things," Chloe deeply sighs. "First, the kiss still happened for you, so I can still blame it. Second, you stole my memory of it, so you owe me. For reals."

I bat my eyes at her. "Whatever can I do to repay you, kind miss?"

Chloe leans over and gives me a kiss that is even better than the previous one. Should she be encouraging me? "Well, that was easy," I say.

"Nope, that was just to replace the kiss you stole," my girlfriend sighs again. "We need to talk. I know that you are being sweet and playful, and I'm really excited to see you embrace your powers. They are a part of you, and I love all of you, even your rewind. But I also love your imperfections. I want to experience your screw ups and awkwardness. When we were banging, I was looking forward to teaching you how to do things, so I felt I was robbed of that when you rewound so much. I appreciate you wanting to make things feel good for me, but part of the fun is being with the huge dork that I know you are. I very much wanted to be your first, but I didn't get that feeling. It was disappointing."

I don't know what to say. How could I not have thought of all that? I just wanted everything to be perfect, and I fuck everything up, yet again, with the best of intentions. Way to go, _Super_ Max. "I'm sorry, Chloe. No more nonconsensual rewinds between us unless there's an emergency." You only get one first time, and I guess I did steal Chloe's full memory of mine.

"It's okay, Maxipad, but you still owe me," Chloe says playfully.

* * *

After a bit of a wait, Darlene comes back with our order. Chloe nibbles a bit on her salad, clearly wishing she chose another time to get serious about a healthy diet. I happily nosh on my burger and fries before I see Chloe's face suddenly go pale with her mouth gaping open as she looks behind me. "No, it can't be."

I turn around to see what the deal is, find nothing, then turn back to see Chloe devouring my food while a slightly eaten salad sits in front of me. "It's really too bad you ordered a salad, Max, because this burger is soooo good." Chloe continues to eat my food while wearing a huge grin. She even belches when she starts to slurp down my chocolate shake.

I am so tempted to rewind this away, but that got me in trouble in the first place. No more rewinds around her if I can at all avoid it. I take a bite out of Chloe's salad. Yep, the burger is much better. "Think we are square now."

* * *

After lunch, we climb back into the truck and head off towards Oregon. Chloe tells me that we moved up to Seattle a couple days ago after David held a small memorial for Joyce. I wished I could have been there for Chloe, but she waves me off when I begin to apologize. David is still in town, and we plan to meet up with him at some point.

A couple hours pass and we pass through Portland, turning onto another highway headed towards the coast as we do so. I wish we could stay and explore the city as Chloe wanted to do last week, but we really need to get to Arcadia Bay.

This road trip is so nice. I love just riding in the truck with Chloe, spending the day alone with her. My left hand rarely leaves hers during the drive.

We eventually reach the ruined town after another couple hours on the road. I'm a bit surprised that Chloe's beat-up truck could survive the trip, though a weird noise coming from the engine grows louder and becomes more frequent the closer we get to our hometown. Maybe we won't be so lucky on the way back.

The town is deserted, leaving an empty shell of what was once a vibrant community. It still amazes me that all of this happened just because I saved a girl from a senseless death in a shitty high school bathroom. We reach what's left of Blackwell and park the truck as close as we can.

The school, for whatever reason, sustained the most damage during the storm. The main hall is an unrecognizable, haphazard pile of red brick and glass. My dorm didn't fair much better. Some walls remain mostly intact, but the place where I used to (still do?) live is mostly a collection of rubble.

As this place is mostly a pile of debris, we use Chloe's plan for the junkyard with her going first to test the waters while I trail behind, ready to rewind away any misstep. Fortunately, my girlfriend manages to traverse the ruined courtyard leading to the dorms without incident, and I carefully follow exactly in her path. I'm glad that she's not as clumsy as me because I don't really know how I would have taken it if she got really hurt. Even if the pain was temporary, I wouldn't be able to get that memory out of my head. As it is, Chloe getting shot by Jefferson still haunts me, and that was a quick, painless death. Chloe really suffering is something I never want to see.

We make our way to what was the entrance to the dorms. Just about a week ago, I was here plotting how to get Victoria and her posse out of the way. Now, I yearn for the simplicity of that problem, of a time when my biggest worry was figuring out a way to deal with a girl who secretly has a crush on me.

Chloe and I look over to where my dorm room would have been, and we spot it. At first, I think it's just a trick with the sun getting into my eyes, but when I turn to Chloe, the look of disbelief on her face confirms it. Where there should be empty sky occupying what was my room on the second floor, there is now some black blobs surrounded by a sea of yellow-red tinge, like a photograph being burnt. I've seen this before at the edge of photo jumps. Every now and then, I think I see the center of this photo blob tear apart, revealing me sleeping in my dorm room, before quickly reforming back together. The whole anomaly is fairly small, maybe the size of an eighth of my room. What the fuck is going on here?

My partner in time is just as mystified as I am at this development. "The hell?" she mutters, echoing my thoughts. She holds my hand, perhaps instinctively, as she looks up at the anomaly.

What could have happened in my dorm room that would have caused this? I search my memories, frantically opening up the mental files of past events for any clue as to what happened here. This has to be connected to my powers. I think back to last Friday, the day I used my powers the most. The only time I was in my dorm room was when… crap.

"I know what caused this," I begin to explain to my confused girlfriend. "It's when I photo jumped from the Zeitgeist back to my dorm room to tear my contest photo. When I arrived in my room, I saw something just like this. I thought that reality was breaking apart, but I forgot about it until just now. This must be the reason why I'm bouncing between timelines."

"Why would that particular photo jump do that?" Chloe asks as she squeezes my hand. "It's not like every time you use that ability this," Chloe waves her other hand in the direction of my room, "happens."

"Well, to get to the Zeitgeist in the first place, I had to photo jump within a photo jump in the Dark Room. When I photo jumped again in the gallery, it must have really fucked with reality." I shake my head. Once again, these powers have an unintended consequence. All I want is a timeline in which all of my friends are alive and that I can share with Chloe. Apparently, that's too big of an ask for the universe. Here I go again screwing everything up.

Chloe seems to read my thoughts as she holds me close, seeking to comfort me. "So, photo jumping within a photo jump within a photo jump is sort of like crossing the streams bad? You had no idea beforehand. This is not your fault, Max. You were just trying to make everything right. Your intentions matter far more than the fucked up consequences that you never wanted."

I know she's right, but I still can't help blaming myself. Just because I was selfish and could only think of getting Chloe back, I ripped a hole in space time. Am I doing the same thing now? I could just walk away, like I had the chance to do at the Zeitgeist, and leave my powers behind without doing more damage. I could stay away from my dorm room and be done with this timeline jump business.

But I shouldn't. Who knows what this hole will do to this and other realities? My powers created this mess, and I am responsible to everyone to fix it. But how?

"This can't be good, Chloe," I say as I lean into her embrace. "I need to make this right, but I don't have a clue where to start."

"I'll look into it while you are away. We will fix this… together!" Chloe is trying to be cheery and enthusiastic because she knows that I'm beating myself up for this. She always seems to know what to do or say to make me feel better. It's stuff like this that makes me know that she loves me, and I adore her for it. For as much shit as I had to go through to be with her, part of me still feels lucky that she somehow fell for me.

* * *

We return to the truck and try to process what we just saw. We just sit there in silence as Chloe holds me and I rest my head against her shoulder. I never want this to end, but I know that my hours here are numbered after the long road trip here and our morning adventures. I smile at the new memory, using it to push back thoughts of the Dark Room and the asylum. At least that worked as intended.

Chloe eventually stops snuggling and resumes her rightful place in the driver's seat. She turns the key in the ignition, and the truck sputters a bit before dying. "Of course this shit would happen now!" Chloe yells as she slams her fist onto the wheel, setting off the horn.

"Umm… know any mechanics left in this ghost town? Guess we are going to have to wait a while for a tow." I slump against my girlfriend. "Though I can't think of someone I would rather be stranded with." I kiss her, trying to calm her down.

My bae sighs and picks up her phone to call for help. "Hello, David?"

I get close to Chloe so that I can hear her stepfather on the other end. I'm glad she doesn't mind me being so nosy. At least, she hasn't said anything. "Hey Chloe. What's going on?"

"Umm… well… would you be willing to do me a favor?" I can tell that this is really hard for Chloe to ask by the way she is scrunching up her nose as if she was stuck in the boys' locker room after practice on a sweltering hot summer day. I'm sure she still sees him as the man who barged into her life and started pushing her around, sometimes literally, when she was trying to deal with her father's death.

"Uhh… yeah, sure. What you need?" I think David was surprised by Chloe's request as am I sure she hasn't asked him for much, if anything. Well, she probably has asked him to go fuck himself.

"A mechanic. Mind helping Max and I out? We are stranded at Blackwell." Chloe wraps an arm around me, and I can tell she is breathing easier.

"Blackwell? Why the hell are you back there? Ahh, it doesn't matter. I'll doubletime it and be there in a few." David hangs up the phone.

David arrives in about half an hour as he is still staying in the motel close to town. I guess he hasn't quite figured out what he is going to do next, so he's sticking by what's familiar. At least, what's left of it. He takes a look at the truck, grunting and muttering to himself about the lack of maintenance. After about an hour, he manages to get Chloe's truck started again, but he warns us that it may just be temporary.

As a gesture of thanks, we take David out to dinner. I suggest the fancy hotel that alternate Victoria is staying at because they must have better food than that crappy motel diner. Chloe inspects her handicapped fund envelope and agrees. After a great meal, we start to head out when I feel it coming, the impending timeline jump. I shoot Chloe a quick glance and she nods as she tries to get me back into the truck before I switch over. David rushes over to my side, clearly concerned about my sudden fatigue. Chloe tries to reassure him that everything's fine, but it's too late as I drift away.

* * *

 _ **Friday, October 17, 2013**_

 _Hello again, Blackwell. The one that actually holds classes and has intact buildings. Probably the only one that still exists, thanks to Chloe._

 _Today was just another day at school. People still were cautious around me, but I've stopped caring. I was more preoccupied with thoughts of Chloe, of that wonderful morning together. I wonder if she's sitting in a classroom in Seattle, daydreaming of me. Probably not. She's grown too responsible for that. Heh, Chloe's the grown up in our relationship._

 _So, it's been a week since that shitty Friday, and things have gotten better and worse. Chloe is my girlfriend now, and we are hella in love but remain trapped in separate realities. Then there's the tear in space time that I created and a timeline in which Jefferson knows about my powers._

 _Speaking of the Dark Room, it's been awhile since I last visited. I'm sure that I'll end up there tonight. Maybe I can stay at Joyce's and skip going there? I don't think it works like that, though who knows? If I don't go, what will happen to that Victoria? What will happen to that Max? Maybe I owe it to them to figure out some way to get them out of there since I created that reality._

 _I guess I need to own up for everything that I've done. I'll go back and figure out a way to save everyone. Just don't know how yet._

I finish writing the day's entry, looking over the page after I'm done with my personal ritual. I'm trying to believe that I'm strong enough to face whatever fucked up shit Jefferson has in store for me, but doubt eats away at my artificial confidence like acid. I pick up my phone and am about to dial Joyce before I will myself to put it down. No. I need to do this.

I get into bed and close my eyes, forcing myself to think about Chloe and not anything related to the Dark Room. It does lift my spirits some, but my mind keeps wandering back to Jefferson. What is he going to do to me this time? How much more can I take? I gradually empty myself of all thought and eventually force sleep upon me.

* * *

I awaken, opening my eyes immediately as I know that Chloe isn't waiting for me here. I find myself in a studio with a white backdrop and professional lighting illuminating an unfamiliar female model, who is wearing something out of my closet-black doe t-shirt, grey hoodie, and jeans. She could be my doppelganger. The model is firmly restrained on a chair by duct tape, and she squirms, saying something that is made unrecognizable by the tape over her mouth. I look down and see a camera draped over my neck, and I recoil in horror.

 **A/N:**

Felt it was time to put some of my cards down on the table. In the game, the scene with Max tearing her contest photo in her dorm room was very weird. A new element was introduced with her powers going haywire and breaking apart reality, but the game then quickly moves on from that and ignores that it ever happened. This seemed like a good event to base a sequel around because you can do whatever you want with reality tearing apart.

I think I'm about halfway done with this story, which would put the final word count around 120k. I appreciate all of the kind words that you all have given, and I hope this next half is as fun to read as the first. Thanks again for the kind words left in reviews. It's nice to hear that readers are enjoying this story as much as I am.

The next few chapters are going to get progressively heavier.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

 **A/N: For reasons that will become clear towards the end of the chapter, this chapter gets really dark especially after the first two scenes.**

I recoil in horror. "What the fuck?!" I yell. The model stops squirming in her chair and pauses with a confused look on her face that must match my own. She gets herself out of her restraints and removes her gag. "Did I do something wrong, Miss Caulfield?"

The model sits on a chair in front of a plain white backdrop reminiscent of the Dark Room. This end of the room is set up like the Dark Room, just minus the psycho teacher and horrifying photos on the walls. The rest of my surroundings, however, contrasts sharply from that hellish bunker. I'm in a big, opulent room. This space feels like a conference room in some swanky hotel. There's a big chandelier hanging from the center of the room, looming over us. Large windows line the walls to the side of me while the wall behind me has a pair of large doors.

Before I can think of a response, Warren rushes to my side. "Are you okay, Max? I knew this was a bad idea."

"What are you talking about?" I turn to the aspiring scientist. What is he doing here? What the hell is going on? Is this just a consensual photo shoot? I decide that I should keep myself from freaking out too much until he can supply some answers.

Warren scratches his head, clearly confused by my question. "Umm… well, this was all your idea." He drops his voice to a whisper. "You know, to help you get over the Dark Room. As a way of reclaiming photography by twisting those fucked up pictures into a symbol of strength. Are you okay? Is this too much for you?"

"Umm… sorry. Just had some bad flashbacks." I am working off my "where the fuck am I?" playbook.

My nerdy friend places a hand on my shoulder, clearly concerned about me. "Are you going to be alright? You don't have to do this, you know."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I whisper to Warren. "Sorry, this is just harder than I thought it would be. Umm… do you remember what I was planning to do for this shoot?"

"Okay, that's the second time that you forgot something you shouldn't have. What's wrong with you, Max? You've never lost your memories after rewinding before…" Warren suddenly stops talking and backs away from me as if I had grown a third arm. Warren's voice noticeably changes tone, from concern to aggression. "It's _you_ , isn't it?"

I back away from my friend instinctively. Something really doesn't feel right here. Well, you know, aside from waking up taking photos of someone who looks like me stuck in the Dark Room. I've never heard him act like this towards me. So cold. Does this Warren know about the timeline jumps? He is certainly aware of my powers. "What… are you talking about?" I say apprehensively.

"You aren't _my_ Max, are you? She said something like this could happen. We thought she was lucky, that you were never coming here. I guess we were wrong." Warren takes a step towards me.

I mirror his movement, taking a step back. He definitely knows about the timeline jumps. If I haven't ever been here, how could he possibly know about me? Can I bluff my way out of this one? "No, I am. What are you doing, Warren?"

Warren pauses and examines my face with hope lingering in his eyes. "What is the safe word, Max? I so want to believe you."

"Safe word? Umm…" Oh shit, there's no way I can guess this, even with rewinding indefinitely, which I probably can't do without collapsing. I panic and throw my camera at Warren before I blindly run towards the door on the far end of the room. I can't believe that I'm running away from him. He would never hurt me in my timeline. But here? Is he as different from his normal self as Maxine is from me? All I can think about is escaping.

The model shrieks as the camera misses Warren and lands harmlessly on the floor, breaking apart into several pieces. She cowers on her chair while Warren is caught off guard and stands in shock for a few seconds before regaining his senses. He runs towards me, but I rewind to give myself even more space to make my escape. Glad I still have my powers here.

I easily make it to my destination before Warren, and I try leaving before slamming a fist against the locked doors. I yell for help, but no one answers. Warren reaches me and keeps his distance. He has a mixture of fear and assertiveness on his face. This is all so messed up. "Maxine? That won't work. We locked those doors on purpose, and it's so early in the morning that no one is around. No one will hear you." Why is he calling me Maxine? Does she have something to do with this?

"You don't have to do whatever it is you are going to do, Warren." My voice trembles as I beg Warren to leave me alone. I can't believe I could be scared of him, but here we are.

"I do, Maxine. You aren't welcome here. My Max is on her way to becoming a famous photographer, and I can't have you mess it up." Warren advances towards me.

Before he can reach me, I raise my right hand and rewind as far as I can before the inevitable migraine prevents me from pushing time and space further. Warren's mouth moves before he takes a step backwards. Warren starts to speak again, and then abruptly runs back to the center of the room.

Shit, I really screwed up when I ran away. If I continue with my rewind like this, it will appear to everyone that I teleported to the doors, which will immediately make Warren suspicious. I need to get back to where I was. I urge my legs to move so I can be in the same place when the rewind ends. It feels like I'm traversing through a pool of molasses as it is so difficult to move along with space time. I haven't had this sensation since I froze time with Kate on the roof, and walking with the rewind makes using my power even more exhausting. A fresh trickle of blood runs down my nose, and I quickly wipe it away with my sleeve.

The camera reforms into one piece and moves through the air to a spot a couple steps away from me, and I pick the camera out of midair. Warren talks yet again and then stops. My head is pounding now, but I force myself to push the rewind further. It's important that I get back to a point before Warren gets suspicious. Warren's mouth utters more indecipherable words before I am forced to release the rewind as the pain intensifies like a thousand razor blades suddenly lodging into my skull.

"It's _you_ , isn't it?" Warren questions me. Fuck. I couldn't go back far enough. What do I do now? I cradle my head as I am pretty exhausted after that last rewind. I'm not sure how much more I can push my powers. I quickly look up and scan the room, hoping to find inspiration. The doors are locked, but I could try a window. The curtains are drawn on each of them, but I'm in a conference room, so hopefully that means I'm on the first floor? Nothing else is coming to me, so I decide to go with it. I run to a window to my right, and my sudden movement catches Warren off guard even though he's suspicious of me.

I draw back a curtain, and to my relief, I find the ground slightly below me. The window is locked though. I guess my luck only lasts so long. Warren is almost to me, so I rewind him back to the center of the room. That should buy me enough time to break the window. I inwardly sigh to myself as I take the camera from my neck and smash it through the window pane to create enough space for me to get through. Can't rewind now or my escape route closes.

Warren recovers from his surprise at seeing me teleport to the windows and rushes towards me as I finish opening a hole. I don't know what he wants to do to me, but I'm not about to stay to find out. I quickly squirm out of the window frame, cutting myself on broken glass as I do so. Warren only manages to grab a foot that I easily shake loose from his grasp. One last rewind to reset him, and I run down the street that's next to the hotel. Blood trickles from my nose and the wounds on my stomach.

* * *

I wonder aimlessly for dog knows how long before I get to the top of a hill to get my bearings. It's a hot, sunny day. Maybe too warm for Oregon. My surroundings certainly don't remind me of anything around Arcadia Bay. Then I see it. Something that tells me exactly where I am and what timeline I stumbled into. The Golden Gate Bridge greets me.

So, I'm in San Francisco. This means that I'm in the Everyday Heroes timeline in which I won the contest and everything seemed to be perfect until I checked my phone. The person who matters the most to me in this fucked up world couldn't reach me as I basked in the adulation of feeling like a real artist for the first time. I was deliriously happy as I finally achieved my ambition of being someone in my field. All the while Chloe was scared shitless on the beach with a tornado of my doing coming to destroy her town. She said she was stuck before the phone cut off, so she probably died alone, having been abandoned yet again by the one person in her life who should always have her back.

Why didn't I think about all of this before? What kind of person am I? Sure, I saved Arcadia Bay by letting Chloe die, but I may have doomed more to die in another timeline by saving Victoria. Hell, despite letting Chloe sacrifice herself, how many timelines has the tornado done its terrible work?

I shake my head, trying to focus on my present situation. This definitely isn't the best time for self reflection as I am being hunted by some creepy version of Warren. I look down at my stomach, and I can see my white blouse being dyed red next to my wound. Moving around like this is probably not helping. My head is still pounding from the frequent use of my powers, and I'm not sure how much more I can rely on them before I pass out. I check my nose and notice the blood dried underneath.

I'm in the middle of some commercial district, and people are keeping their distance from me. I'm sure I look like a crazy person, bloodied and stumbling around with a busted camera still draped on my neck. Do I go to a hospital? I probably need some medical attention, but wouldn't Warren be looking for me there? What was he going to do if he catches me? It seems like he really cares for the Max of this timeline, so he wouldn't kill me. But I'm not sure it would be pleasant either.

I need some more information. I pull out my phone, but it is locked. The lock photo is a picture of Warren giving a peace sign in front of the Zeitgeist. Crap, I can't call anyone if I can't get into my phone. I guess I should have memorized some phone numbers instead of relying on my address book. I know my parents' number, of course, but that's not going to be helpful as they are in Seattle. I check my pockets and find an electronic room key bearing the name Hotel Zetta. Warren is probably also expecting me there. I can't find a wallet, which must be in my camera bag back in that convention room.

So, I'm in a strange city without ID, money, a working phone, or any friends. At least, any friends who aren't trying to harm me. I'm bleeding and in bad shape. I can't just keep walking around aimlessly. And to top it all off, my head is killing me. Fuck! What do I do?

As I struggle with my limited options, I keep trying to guess the passcode to get into my phone. Time and time again i'm met with the lock screen and Warren smiling outside the Zeitgeist. It seems unfair that I couldn't both win the contest and have everyone alive. Chloe is totally worth it though. I would give this up and more for her, though I wonder how much I've sacrificed by creating that rift in time and space by using my contest photo to leave San Francisco. Wait… it worked once before, maybe I can use that same photo to escape this city again. Hopefully, the Everyday Heroes exhibit is still ongoing so I can use my contest photo to leave this timeline.

I smile to myself despite the shitty situation I've found myself in. It feels good to have a plan. Now I just need to figure out where the Zeitgeist is. I ask around and get nowhere because nobody wants anything to do with me. I can't blame them. I wouldn't want to deal with me either.

Finally, someone comes up to me and asks if she can take me to a hospital. I tell her that I'll go after I drop off my photos at the Zeitgeist because I have an urgent deadline that can't wait. I explain that I was mugged and used my camera to defend myself while I was on my way. The stranger gets an Uber, and the car arrives shortly thereafter.

The driver is initially resistant at letting me ride as he fears that I'll bleed all over his back seat, but we persuade him to let me aboard by convincing him that I really need help. We make it to the gallery in a few minutes, and I get out, promising to return once I drop off my pictures. It's a promise that I hope not to keep.

Prominently hanging on the exterior of the gallery is a large banner that reads: _Light from the Dark: Fighting Through a Moment of Desperation. A New Exhibit by Max Caulfield. Coming Soon._ The banner also features a picture of me lining up a shot behind my camera. Whoa. So those fucked up pictures were going to be part of an exhibit? At the Zeitgiest? A solo exhibit at that!? I don't know whether to freak out because I have a solo show at the Zeitgiest or because those are the pictures that I'm letting out into the world to represent me.

I stumble into the Zeitgeist, and I am reminded of the euphoria I felt not long ago when I came here for the first time. Now, I mostly feel dread. After I enter the gallery, I am relieved to see that the Everyday Heroes exhibit is still ongoing. I am met with stares from everyone present as I make my way to the other end of the building where my selfie waits. I might be imagining it, but I could swear I hear several people whisper my name as they see me. The gallery employee at the desk tries to stop me because I don't have a ticket, but I rewind that problem away and press on. A fresh trail of blood flows from my nose, making me even more of a spectacle.

One older man in a beige suit tries to stop me and calls me by name. He says something about being David Lee from the Berkeley Free Press or something and that I need to go get help, but I also rewind that obstacle out of my way. Nothing is going to stop me from getting to my contest photo. More blood gushes from my nose, and the pounding in my head intensifies, almost to the point of making me collapse. I grit my teeth and move on.

As I turn the corner leading to my photo, a hand firmly grips my right arm. I turn to find Warren. "I thought you might be here, trying to photo jump." His expression darkens. "I'm sorry I scared you before, Maxine. I just didn't want you to mess up my friend's life. We need to get you to a hospital. You must have lost a lot of blood."

How the fuck does he know so much? I try to escape Warren's hold, but I'm too weak to put up much of a fight. I could try to rewind, but I've never done so with someone holding me like this, and my head is already killing me. Fuck!

Warren whispers into my ear with a very annoyed tone. "Come with me before you make even a bigger scene. Just think about what you are doing to my Max. She knows people here, and now she's going to have to think of some way to explain all of this. Thanks."

I resist Warren as much as I can, and I feel myself starting to pull away from him. The wounds along my stomach scream in protest, but I don't have much of a choice right now. I can hear Warren sigh, and then I feel the familiar sting of a needle into my back. I start to panic, and my field of vision narrows more and more until all I can see is a blanket of black.

* * *

I wake up alone in my dorm room. Sunlight fills the area, and I exhale in relief as I'm not in some insane timeline but in a safe space. I don't know how, but I'm glad I escaped that crazy version of Warren.

As I contemplate the day's possibilities, a strong, aggressive fist knocks on my door. "Maxine Caulfield! This is David Madsen. Open up!"

The hell? He sounds so distant and adversarial. What's going on? I quickly open the door, and David roughly turns me around and places me in handcuffs. I wish I had my rewind in this timeline, though I guess it wouldn't be too useful while handcuffed.

"David? What's going on?" I meekly ask.

"Don't even fucking pretend you don't know EXACTLY what's going on, bitch." David yells at me.

The former soldier sits me down on my couch and goes to my desk. "You sick fuck!" That's when I notice it.

A stack of red binders sits on my desk. Each is labeled with a name I recognize. There's one for Rachel, Brooke, Kate, and Juliet. But the one bearing the name "Chloe" truly freaks me out. David opens that binder and frantically examines each image, his face twisted in horror as he does so. I'm thankfully too far away to see what's actually inside the binder, but I can judge by his reaction that they must be photos similar to what I found in the Dark Room. Finally, he turns away before finishing the binder and looks at me seething with hatred.

"Maxine, you _will_ tell me where Chloe is, right now. That's an order!" David barks his command at me like I'm a fresh recruit just entering basic training. I can tell there's an extreme urgency behind his words. Is Chloe in danger? What's happened? How is she in a timeline with Blackwell still standing? Where the fuck am I?

"I-I… d-don't know… sir," I mutter as I look at the ground, avoiding eye contact. I can't bear to see him look at me that way, like I'm some sort of monster.

"DON'T YOU DARE PATRONIZE ME, PUNK," David furiously yells as he shakes me. "YOU WILL TELL ME WHERE MY DAUGHTER IS RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

I force myself to look at him in the eye and flinch as I do so. He looks like he wants to snap my head off with his bare hands. I've only seen him this pissed when I told him Jefferson killed Chloe. That means she must be in some serious trouble. "I really don't know, Mr. Madsen. I swear!"

David calms himself down, muttering to himself that I'm not worth it. "Humph, I doubt that, Maxine. You will answer for what you've done. Let's go." David roughly stands me up and pushes me out my door while I'm still dressed in my pajamas. Everyone is out in the hallway, staring at us. I try not to look at my friends as I leave my room, but I can't help myself. I can see the look of disgust on all of their faces.

"Hope you rot in prison, you pervert!" Victoria sneers as she gives me a one-fingered salute. I turn to her and open my mouth to say something, but David shoves me forward, preventing me from trying to explain myself.

I stumble towards Kate, and she quickly cowers into her doorway. The look of sheer panic on her face when she sees me come towards her is just heartbreaking. I thought David's fury towards me was unsettling, but that does not even compare to how unnerving it was for Kate to be so terrified of me. Just the idea that I could hurt poor, sweet Kate so much that she would react that way breaks me. Kate whispers something to herself, and I'm close enough to hear her say that she hopes I burn in hell. Oh god, how was I set up for this?

My thoughts are interrupted by a wad of spit hitting my face. With my hands cuffed behind me, the spit is free to slide down my cheek without interruption. Tears form as this reception from everyone I care about is overwhelming. Juliet gives Dana a high five as they see my reaction. The reporter then snaps a photo with her phone. "Serves you right, bitch. I'll make sure this sweet picture is on the front page of the next _Totem_."

David continues to push me along the hallway, and I see Alyssa come out of her room with a carton of eggs. "Think fast, you monster." She pelts me with several eggs before David takes her ammunition away. Egg whites and yolk drip down my body, and my hair is drenched with them. The nose-turning stench that follows confirms that these were rotten. It takes much of my willpower to stop myself from vomiting and crying at the same time.

We thankfully reach the end of the gauntlet and make our way outside. A large group of students is gathered in the courtyard, and they cheer as they see me covered in rotten eggs and handcuffed. Warren pushes through the crowd and comes to my side. "Max, are you okay?"

Finally, a friendly face among all of this hate. Surely Warren knows that I'm completely incapable of this. He must realize that I've been framed. I force a smile after he asks his question. "No, but thanks. I…"

Warren interrupts me with a sucker punch to my face. "Good. I'm glad you aren't okay. That one was for Brooke." The punch was quite hard, and he hit me close to my right eye. I can't see through it now, and I imagine the punch left me with a black eye. I collapse to the ground in pain as my classmates cheer and chant Warren's name. Before David can restrain him, Warren rushes back into the mob of students. The Blackwell security officer grunts and continues to move me along after dragging me to my feet.

We come to the main courtyard of the campus where a Blackwell security car is parked and a few recently arrived officers join David in escorting me. I can see Nathan shaking his head while sitting under a tree and observing me. Unlike the others, his face is full of pity. "I hope you get the help you need!" he yells to me.

As we reach the car, we are greeted by Wells and Jefferson. Wells approaches me first. "As head of Blackwell, it is my honor and privilege to formally expel you from this institution. You were always a mediocre student, and your recent actions have brought nothing but shame on Blackwell. This school will be a much better place with you behind bars. Thanks to a tip from Mr. Jefferson, you will get what you so richly deserve." More cheers erupt as Wells finishes.

Jefferson framed me? What fucked up timeline is this? I can't wake up soon enough.

My photography teacher takes the camera slung over his neck and snaps a photo of me. "I notice you took one to your eye. Good job. Always take the shot, Maxine. I can see the desperation, the hopelessness in your expression. It's good to see you feel what all of your victims felt. Enjoy your time in prison. I hope they lock you in some dark room and throw away the key."

David pushes me into the back seat of the car, and I am flanked by two other security guards. David takes the wheel, and we speed off to the police station.

* * *

I'm placed in an interrogation room shortly after arriving at Arcadia Bay's police station. The room feels old with yellowing paint and a stale, musty scent in the air. I'm seated at a table opposite a large one-way window. I can only imagine David and some cops observing me silently freak out. The only thing that's preventing me from totally losing my shit is the fact that I'm going to leave this hellish timeline at some point in the next few hours. I just need to survive until then.

As I sit alone in the room, I am left only with my thoughts as company. How is all of this even possible? There shouldn't be any timeline in which both Chloe and Arcadia Bay are in one piece. Unless I missed something. Was there a way to prevent the storm and save my blue-haired girlfriend? If so, how? Why didn't I see it?

All of this is so confusing. How did Jefferson so effectively frame me? Who can I turn to for help? Why is everyone so convinced that I did all of this? What happened to Chloe? Why is there a binder full of her pictures? How did everyone at school know about this? Why did David, just a security guard, come to arrest me instead of the cops? None of this makes any sense.

After what seems like hours, a burly man wearing khakis and a light blue dress shirt with rolled up sleeves enters the room. I can smell cigarette smoke on him, and I am instantly reminded of my girlfriend. "I'm Detective Washington. Let's get this out of the way, shall we? Maxine Caulfield, you are under arrest for aggravated assault and the kidnapping of Rachel Amber, Chloe Price, Brooke Scott, Juliet Watson, and Kate Marsh. You are also charged with the murder of Rachel Amber, Chloe Price, and Brooke Scott. You have the right to remain silent…"

The detective continues with my _Miranda_ warnings, but I stare blankly at him as I just can't process being here and charged with all of those crimes. I just keep whispering to myself that this can't be happening.

Detective Washington snaps his fingers in front of my face, jarring me back to this reality. "Miss Caulfield, it would be better for everyone involved if you tell me about what you did. We have plenty of evidence against you to lock you up for a long time. I'm here to see if you regret what you did and if you would like to get anything off your chest. Your victims' families deserve closure and the location of their loved ones' remains."

"I didn't do anything," I plead with the policeman. "Mr. Jefferson is the psycho! More people will get hurt if you don't arrest him!"

Washington shakes his head, clearly disappointed in me. "Now, now, Miss Caulfield. We both know that's a lie. Why don't you stop playing games with me and tell me what you did."

"No, I didn't do anything," I respond with a shake of my head.

The detective picks up a remote and clicks on the small television mounted high on the wall opposite the door. I am greeted by a still of Chloe strapped to that damn chair in the Dark Room. She looks so drained, so helpless, so fearful. "I've seen this video too many times," Washington sighs. "You can't watch this and pretend that you are innocent, Miss Caulfield." The detective places the remote in my hands. "I'm not going to watch this again just because you are playing games. I'll be outside." With that, the detective leaves me alone aside from the unseen viewers on the other side of the glass.

I nervously rub my thumb over the back of the plastic remote as I try to resist playing the video. There's going to be something unspeakable on it, and I can't rewind that away from my memory. Then again, is this the reason why they are so convinced I'm guilty? A morbid curiosity looms over me, not unlike when I was agonizing over whether to watch _Cannibal Holocaust_. Minutes pass as I debate what to do, but I remain alone with my indecision.

Finally, after a heavy sigh, I resign myself to my curiosity. I can always turn the TV off if it gets to be too much, I reason. I'm probably going to regret this, but I need to see why everyone is so convinced that I'm some monster. I lift the remote as much as my restraints will allow and press play.

 _Tears stream down Chloe's cheeks and she jerks her head right before the click of a camera. I hear what sounds like an instant camera spitting out an image, and then an eerily familiar feminine voice then comes from off screen. "You fucked up my shot! Maybe another dose will calm you down."_

 _That was my voice, though I don't recognize the venom behind it. Chloe fruitlessly struggles against her restraints. "No! Please, don't! I'm so sorry. I'll do better!"_

 _Suddenly, short brunette hair comes into view and then I see myself, back still turned to the camera, wearing a black shirt, dark jeans, and latex gloves and holding a syringe. "You should welcome the chance to get high, you faux punk slut. I've had enough of your kind in my Seattle days. Don't worry though. This won't hurt… much," I say in a soft, soothing voice as I jab the needle into Chloe's neck. She gives out a yelp of pain before relaxing in her chair. She remains conscious but is clearly out of it._

" _There, much better," I say as I snap another picture. "You know, Chloe, this has been a career high for me. You should take comfort in that before you die tonight. No one will miss you or care. But people will care about these photos. They are exceptional."_

" _You… bitch… g-going… hell… Rachel," Chloe manages to say through her drug-induced stupor._

" _I don't believe in those fairy tales. But Rachel! She was a great subject. It's too bad she had that reaction to my posing aids. Don't worry. You will be fucking soon in heaven." I say that last bit with a dry, mocking laugh._

" _As great as these photos are, I think we can do better, don't you? You don't mind if I take some extreme measures, do you? You will be dead soon so what do you care?" I appear again in front of the camera, this time armed with a scalpel as I move towards Chloe. "Maybe if I take an ear?"_

I quickly turn off the television as I don't want to see what's about to happen. That certainly looked like me. Am I in some fucked up timeline with Maxine? She had Jefferson's drugs and she's abusive. Maybe she is capable of this? But Blackwell and Chloe wouldn't be there.

Washington reenters the room and takes the remote from me. "I don't want to see this again, but you need to witness what you did." He turns the video on again, but I look away. I can hear Chloe's screams as her torture commences. "Look at what you did, Maxine!" Washington yells.

I refuse to turn to the screen, and I bury my head in my arms. I start to sob with the day's trauma finally overwhelming me. I hear the detective leave the room again, and the video abruptly ends.

"I want my phone call!" I demand to the glass. A few minutes pass, and an officer enters the room with a landline, attaches it to the wall, and gives me the phone. The officer leaves the room.

I dial my parents, but no one picks up. I try again, and right before I'm about to give up, my mother answers. "Maxine?" she asks harshly. I've never heard my mother address me like that, so a few seconds of stunned silence pass before I can offer an answer.

"Yes, mom. I know how it looks, but it wasn't me. Please, I need your help!" I plead with my mother with thick desperation in my voice.

"Just like your victims needed help, Maxine? Your father and I want nothing to do with you. You are dead to us. You are nothing but a huge disappointment. I can't believe we raised such a monster." Before I can respond, I am met with a click and dial tone.

Suddenly, the door to the interrogation room flings open and David rushes inside with a handgun drawn. He moves to my side and points the gun at my head. "You tortured and killed my wife's child and buried her in a junkyard!" David screams at me, tears running down his face.

Shit, this timeline is so screwed up. Maybe I have my powers here? I try to rewind this so I can warn the cops on the other side of the glass, but nothing happens when I lift up my right hand. Of all the times to not have my powers! Fuck!

Washington enters the room in a panic and points his gun at David. "I know that you are upset after we just found Chloe's body, but you can't do this, David. Chloe's murderer deserves justice. Don't stoop to her level!"

I suppose I did murder Chloe when I used that photo to return to the bathroom. Maybe I deserve this. I love you, Chloe. I'm so sorry. My mind is filled with images of my girlfriend, and I relax in my chair. Maybe I'll be with a version of you soon.

David looks at me in the eye with blind rage. "Go to hell, Maxine." All I can think of is that I'm already there. He pulls the trigger.

* * *

Thoughts loosely swim in my head. Am I dead? Where am I now? I'm still thinking, so there's an afterlife, right? Oh god, what the fuck is happening to me?

As I consider these philosophical questions, soft lips press against mine and a tongue enters my mouth. Did I reunite with Chloe in the afterlife? "Mmm…" a feminine voice purrs. I open my eyes to see Kate straddled on me as she kisses me deeply. She's wearing Chloe's punk outfit minus the beanie and has streaks of blue running in her hair. I find that I can't move as I'm strapped to a chair. I'm in the Dark Room. Again. What the fuck?!

"Good," Jefferson says as he clicks his camera. Chloe is bound on the couch, and she cries as she sees Kate kiss me. I try to move away, but it feels like my body is frozen. "Did you honestly think that Max would ever love a loser like you?" Jefferson taunts my girlfriend as he takes more shots.

Kate finally pulls away from me with a satisfied smile on her face. Jefferson moves to a different position, lining up another shot. "Max, please don't be rude to poor, corrupted Kate. Kiss her back."

I inwardly yell at my body to turn away, but I can't control myself as I plant my lips against Kate's and thrust my tongue into her mouth. Jefferson laughs. "Good girl. This is so much easier now that I have broken you two." Chloe responds with intensified weeping.

Jefferson snaps a few more photos as I conclude my kiss with Kate. "You can let Max out, Kate. I'm done. Do you want to kill Chloe now, Max?" Kate releases me from my restraints.

Sound leaves my throat. "Yes, please! I so enjoyed watching her die on the train tracks, in the junkyard, in her bed, and in the bathroom. I just can't kill her enough!"

Jefferson hands me my instant camera and whispers to me in his fake charming voice. "A present for you, Max. You can bludgeon your girlfriend to death with this." I inwardly struggle as much as I can to regain control over my body, but I am forced to take the camera and head towards the couch.

I pass out in sheer horror.

* * *

I awaken screaming and covered in blood. A man lies motionless next to me. His face is badly beaten, but he is still breathing. I quickly back away from him, and I am met by two strong arms that restrain me. I look around and see that it's one of the orderlies from the psychiatric hospital. His companion must be the one of the floor.

I'm in my padded room, but the white walls are splattered red. I start to laugh at the insanity of all of this. Of course all of this bullshit up to and including now is just a nightmare. Warren chasing me through San Francisco, the arrest, and the Dark Room. All a nightmare. A horrific nightmare, but just a nightmare nonetheless. Nothing to be afraid of. I let out all of my anxiety and terror that was building with those recent events in a series of shrill laughs. I must sound completely out of my mind, but I can't help myself. A fucking nightmare!

"Dr. Price, Mrs. Jefferson is hallucinating badly! Hank is down, and I need help!" Dean yells at the door.

After a few seconds, the door swings open, and Dr. Price runs in. "Oh god, Hank! Why did you let her out of her restraints? You know she's dangerous!" Dr. Price takes her phone out of her pocket and calls for medical help.

Dean cautiously moves me back to my bed and tries to lay me down. I try to shake him off. "No, Dean. I'm good. I'm here with you and Dr. Price. I'm not hallucinating." Dean looks back to the doctor, anxiously waiting for approval.

Chloe nods her head, and Dean quickly attends to his colleague. Dr. Price takes a seat on my bed. "Max? You are back with us in reality?"

"Yes, I'm here. I didn't do that." I'm exhausted from my previous nightmares, and I'm tired of dealing with all of this bullshit. I need it to end. I just sit there, looking at the floor.

"I understand that it wasn't you," Dr. Price reassures me. "Your illness is progressing dangerously, Max. You need to believe me. I'm just trying to help you."

"Look, I know that this is just a nightmare. You aren't convincing me otherwise." I cross my arms and give Dr. Price a stern expression showing that I'm serious.

I notice Dean look up at Dr. Price after I finish speaking. It looks like he is trying to gauge Chloe's reaction to what I just said. Dr. Price ignores his stare and takes my hand. "Please, Max. You have to believe me. Things like this," she gestures to the orderly bleeding on the floor, "will happen again if you don't come to terms with what is really going on. I appreciate that it is the hardest thing that you have ever had to do. To trust me and believe that the life you thought you knew was just a lie. Last time you were here, I could sense that we were close to a breakthrough. You know that what I am saying makes sense and feels right. I'm asking that you trust that instinct so that we can start on a path to your recovery."

She's right. Part of me _does_ want to believe her. Wouldn't it be so much easier if I didn't have powers? If I wasn't forced to live with the guilt of sacrificing my lover to save my hometown? It does make sense that I would go crazy if I really did kill my daughter.

But a stronger part of me, the part that is hopelessly devoted to Chloe, knows that this is just a nightmare. Despite what Warren said about my mind making up the nightmare excuse so that I can deny reality, it just makes too much sense. No way did I just travel to some other timelines as there isn't any reality in which I am capable of torturing and killing my blue-haired angel. I can't give up on her. What we have is special and is worth fighting for. If it means that I am dooming myself to living a lie while trapped in an asylum, so be it. I have to trust my feelings like Dr. Price suggested. It's just that she isn't going to like the result.

"No!" I yell, taking my hand away. "This is just a nightmare, and I'll wake up soon to the real world. There's nothing you can do or say that will make me trust you."

I can see anger boiling under the surface of Dr. Price's usually stoic demeanor. "We will just see what you have to say after some shock therapy," she snaps at me. "Unfortunately for you, your husband authorized us to take some extreme measures if it became clear that we could not reach you."

Dean stops attending his colleague and turns to the doctor. "We shouldn't do this. She's a lost cause. There's no need for cruelty."

The rage that was simmering beneath Dr. Price's mask of professionalism now explodes outward towards the orderly. "How DARE you question me! We agreed that we needed to do _whatever_ was necessary here. We agreed to it! Don't back out now because things are going to get messy." They agreed to my treatment? But he's just an orderly. She doesn't need his input at all. What the fuck is going on between those two?

I am considering whether to make a run for the door as they are arguing. While I now am totally convinced that this is nothing more than some charade, I can still feel things here and I would rather not undergo shock therapy. If I did make a break for it though, where would I go? My chances of actually getting out of here are slim to none, especially considering that I don't have my powers judging by the last time I was here. Then again, maybe I just need to stall until I can wake up. Fuck it. It's better than just doing nothing.

While they are distracted, I take Chloe's ID badge hanging off her lab coat and break for the door. Dr. Price and Dean are stunned by my sudden movement, and I get a head start. This feels like San Francisco all over again. Let's hope it doesn't end the same way.

Dean leaves my room and follows me, but I can hear Dr. Price calling for an emergency shutdown of the facility because of a loose and dangerous patient. I reach the door to the conference area and use Chloe's badge to unlock it. As the door shuts behind me, an alarm goes off and the card reader displays a solid red light. Dean quickly reaches the door and tries to use his badge, but the door doesn't budge as he slams his fist against it. I shoot the orderly the bird through the door's glass, and I flee towards the bathroom. Maybe I can hide there for a while. Hey, hiding in a bathroom worked once before. What better place to stall than a stall?

Oddly, I don't notice anyone else on the way to the bathroom. You would think there would be security crawling all over this place to get me, a dangerous mental patient. I thought that my decision to escape would have quickly ended on the ground surrounded by security. I guess I got lucky? Well, this is a nightmare, so things don't have to make sense.

I open the bathroom door, which is not affected by the general alarm blaring in the hallway. I check the perimeter as David would say and notice a young blue-haired woman huddled with her head in her arms on the floor of a stall. She has a punk outfit on that resembles Chloe's. I think I can hear her crying over the oppressive sound of the alarm. She reminds me an awful lot of the Chloe that tried to warn me that this wasn't real the last time I was here.

Even though I'm taking a risk in trusting someone who is a stranger, I enter her stall and wrap my arms around her in comfort. She certainly _feels_ like my girlfriend. The other woman's weeping softens at my touch, and she looks up at me, smiling as she sees my face. It's my Chloe.

Unable to help myself after everything that I have endured, I kiss her passionately. Chloe backs away from my embrace but keeps her smile. "Let's not do that. Too weird. Like masturbation."

Okay, so I guess this isn't _my_ Chloe, but she is definitely friendly. "What's wrong?"

Chloe continues to smile and shakes her head. "Nothing. These are tears of relief. I love being here. It's so much better even though it is all fake. Reality is what frightens me."

What an odd thing to say. Where could she have come from that is so terrible? Maybe I shouldn't press as I just really met her. "I'm Max. Look, that alarm is for me because I left after Dr. Price tried to set me up for shock treatments. It's probably not good for you to be around me."

The strange version of my bae beams at me. "You are so compassionate. So kind. The others are just wrong about you. I will help you out, but you need to promise to help me. I'm desperate."

I nod my head. "Sure, I'll do whatever you need. I don't know why you are doing this, but I am in your debt."

"We don't have much time. I can feel them coming. You need to trust me." Chloe hands me a gun. It's Nathan's. The one that set off this series of fucked up events. I shudder as I take it from her. "You need to shoot yourself in the head. It will wake you up from this nightmare. It has to be you because someone else killing you won't work. You know that with David."

I can hear a group of people frantically running outside in the hallway. It won't be long until they are here. My heart pounds in my chest, matching the rhythm of the footsteps outside. I'm so tired of all this bullshit. Being chased by an insane Warren in San Francisco, then getting arrested for Jefferson's crimes, then being trapped in the Dark Room again, and finally back here in this screwed up reality in which I'm married to a monster. I just want it all to end. "What do you need from me?"

The door bursts open, and Dr. Price enters followed by Hank, who miraculously has recovered enough to join the search party, and Dean. "Max, you bitch, it's time for your treatment!" Dr. Price yells.

Chloe frowns and turns away. "Escape from the Dark Room by any means necessary."

The three asylum employees reach the stall, and I point the gun at my head, bracing myself for the possibility that I really am insane and I could be really killing myself. Oh god, I am going to do this!

Dr. Price ignores Chloe and gasps as she sees me. "How the hell did you get that?! Don't do anything rash, Max. This is your real life you have in your hands. You can't rewind this away if you pull the trigger."

"I love you, Chloe," I whisper to myself as I fire the weapon.

 **A/N:**

This chapter was originally much different. The San Francisco events were part of their own timeline instead of the nightmare. Then something else happens which will be added in a later chapter, and the chapter ended with David arresting Max. Chapter 12 was then going to be the nightmare. I went against that plan as I didn't want to add yet another timeline to make things more confusing, and the way this chapter played out is far superior to the original version. This is why this chapter is longer than my usual 5-7k. Chapter 12 could be delayed as I used next week's work here, and I have only been about a week ahead.

This chapter and the next are probably about as dark as this story is going to get. I wanted this chapter to have some really uncomfortable moments because a nightmare should be really screwed up. I hope that I didn't turn people away.

The Kate scene in the Dark Room was inspired by Evanexus's suggestion for some Marshfield. I'm sure that's not what you had in mind, but there you go!

At this point, it may be helpful to readers to have a short guide. Here's a summary of where we are at:

 **(1)** main timeline from the sacrifice Chloe ending in which everyone but Chloe is alive and Max is attending Blackwell: _Chapters 1,3, and 8_ ;

 **(2)** Chloe timeline based on the sacrifice Arcadia Bay ending in which Max and Chloe are dating and living with Max's parents in Seattle: _Chapters 2, 5, and 10_ ;

 **(3)** the William timeline in which Maxine (alternate "evil" Max) and Victoria are dating and our Max saves Victoria from getting shot by William: _Chapters 4 and 9_ ;

 **(4)** the Dark Room timeline in which Jefferson kidnaps Max and Victoria and has discovered Max's powers: _Chapter 6_ ; and

 **(5)** asylum nightmare in which Dr. Price tries to convince Max that she is married to Jefferson and the other timelines are a delusion: _Chapters 7_ _and 11_.

Everything else in this story will be connected to the first five timelines on the list as I am not going to introduce anything new. I hope this all isn't too confusing and readers are able to follow along. Some confusion is intentional as I want readers to struggle to figure out where they are at first just as Max does, but hopefully it becomes clear as a chapter progresses.

Here are some of the plot lines:

 **(1)** How can Max be reunited with Chloe permanently?

 **(2)** What will Jefferson do with the knowledge of Max's powers?

 **(3)** What is going on in the nightmare?

 **(4)** Will there be a storm for saving Victoria in the William and Dark Room timelines? Will Max prevent it?

 **(5)** How can Max and Chloe deal with the anomaly in Max's dorm room? What effects will it have on all of the timelines?

Thanks once again for reading and all of the favorites, follows, and reviews. I do read what you have to say and take it into account. The story won't change as I know where it's going but some details might.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

 **A/N: This chapter will eventually see Max go back to the Dark Room timeline. Keep in mind the trigger warnings for Chapter Six as you read.**

I awaken in a cold sweat, and I immediately shiver in the cold autumn air. I'm still alive! That really was a nightmare! Thank dog. That means what Chloe and I have is real. She's not just a figment of my imagination.

I shiver again before I realize that I'm not wearing anything. I blink a few times and rub my eyes, trying to make the blurry world around me clear. I must have been really out of it.

As I come to, I find myself in a dorm room, but it's not mine. An arm is wrapped around me, and I turn over to see the Queen Bee only wearing a smile and a thin sheet as she sleeps. What the fuck? I should have been passed out in my room the whole time! How the hell did I end up here?

My heart beats loudly as I look over at Victoria. She looks so vulnerable right now, and that's just heightened by the unguarded smile draped all over her face. I'm so used to seeing her so careful with everything she does and says that I'm a bit taken aback by this private side of her. It's almost like I'm seeing her for the first time. I feel a smile creep onto my own face as I stare. Her short blonde hair does really enhance her beautiful facial features, her enchanting brown eyes. The soft snore coming from her is beyond adorable.

My smile broadens as I remember her unexpected kindnesses. The embrace on that awful Friday when I broke down in front of her. The Chloe photo album given while I was in the hospital. The way alternate Victoria was so encouraging with my photography. As much as she tries to hide it, Victoria is a wonderful person. I then recall the kiss that the Victoria from William's timeline gave me when I first arrived there. I close my eyes, and I can feel her lips on mine. I can almost feel the way I did then. Confused. Angry at myself. But excited and intrigued. Yearning for more.

Shit. This is going to make things awkward. She's totally into me, and now she thinks I feel the same way. I don't feel the same way. I'm just attracted to women, and she's just a gorgeous one. That's all. There's no way I can be crushing on her. _Maxine_ has feelings for her, not me. I'm nothing like that monster. I'm not capable of the things that she is. I turn to Victoria, trying to divine some answer. I can't help but to blush as I see my former rival, and then I scold myself for it. No, there just can't be a crush here. I don't have feelings for her. Just Chloe. Right?

I am assaulted by fresh memories of the nightmare. Jefferson taunting Chloe as I kiss Kate, and Chloe's hopeless, betrayed expression. I know that it was just a nightmare, but I can't shake the feeling that Chloe must feel similarly after what I've told her about Victoria. It would just break her if she knew how much I was struggling with this. I never want to see that wounded look on her face again. I need to control myself.

I take a few deep breaths to regain my composure and resolve to figure out what's going on. Without waking up Victoria, I look around for my clothes, but I can't find them. I do find my phone on a nightstand by the bed and pick it up. I press in the code to unlock it, but I'm met with a buzz and a return to the lock screen. I try again and get the same result. I then notice that the lock screen has a message on it.

 _Hey Bitch,_

 _You stole my life, so the least I could do was fuck with yours while I had some control. Enjoy, "whore."_

Other me had control while I was in the nightmare? That would explain everything. What the hell else did she do? I need to get back to my room and think this over. Thank goodness it's still dark out. Maybe I'll be able to make the walk of shame without anyone noticing.

I gingerly lift Victoria's arm away from me and quietly get out of bed. As my clothes are nowhere to be found, I sneak over to Victoria's dresser and try to find an oversized t-shirt that I could use for the short walk back to my room. I sift through cashmere cardigans and designer jeans, but the hunt for a simple t-shirt is proving elusive. Everyone has an oversized boyfriend shirt! What the hell, Victoria? I finally find what I'm looking for tucked away in the corner of her bottom drawer. It's a shirt with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She was probably ashamed at having this, but she couldn't bear parting with it either. The shirt is big for Victoria, but it's going to be gigantic for me as she's much taller. I put the shirt on and it goes past my knees. I slowly open the door, hoping that I avoid any creaking that would wake up my friend. Fortunately, I manage to leave her room without making a sound. I really do feel like a Blackwell ninja now.

As I close the door behind me and make my way back to my room across the hall, I can feel a pair of eyes on me. I turn to see Kate blush and quickly go back to her room. Fuck. Another problem to deal with. It's pretty obvious what I was up to in Victoria's room.

I open the door to my room and walk inside, half expecting to see it in ruins. To my relief, everything's the same as I remember it. Still, other me had to have done something else to screw with me. I go over to my laptop, but I've also been locked out of it as well. Great, now I can't call or send emails.

I need to calm down. After everything that I just went through in the nightmare, I am definitely feeling frazzled. Getting my thoughts down on paper will help me sort through all of this shit. I look around for my diary, but it's nowhere to be found. Crap, crap, crap. If anyone read that, they would think I'm totally insane! What the hell is other me trying to do?

I feel so alone right now. I can't talk to anyone without a phone or my laptop. I can't go to Kate because she just saw me creep out of Victoria's room. I obviously can't go across the hall to see the Queen Bee. I don't even know how I am going to deal with that.

I guess this means I'll have to wait for morning before I can go see Warren and try to figure things out. He might have an idea on what to do with the rift in my room and what that fucking nightmare meant. No way am I going back to sleep now. Even if I wasn't so damn nervy after that screwed up nightmare, I am not prepared to go somewhere else now. I don't know if I could take being back in the Dark Room. Not to mention what could happen if other me regains control.

With nothing better to do, I take my guitar and start strumming "Crosses" to get my mind off this horrible night.

* * *

Morning light finally seeps into my bedroom after hours of waiting. I'm so tired, but this isn't a safe place to sleep now. Plus, I need to figure shit out.

I take a shower to help ward off the sheep jumping over fences in my head and then get dressed, wearing my usual hipster outfit. Putting on those clothes helps put me at ease as it's like greeting an old friend.

I sneak over to Warren's room, careful not to get caught as I'm not allowed over there at this early hour. It's like 7 am, and he's probably still asleep. I need a friendly face now that knows what I'm going through. I hope he'll forgive me for costing him some shut eye.

Warren's slate outside his door has a Stephen Hawking quote, and I smile at this reflection of Warren's inner science nerd. I gently knock on his door and predictably get no response. I knock again, this time with more purpose. I am greeted with some grunting and "whaa?"

"Warren, it's Max," I gently say to the door. "I need to talk with you. Please." I try not to sound too desperate, but I think the anxiousness in my voice has given me away. I hear some rustling on the other side of the door and within a few seconds Warren opens the door and shows me into his room.

I take a seat on his couch and marvel at the messiness of my friend's living space. Laundry coats the floor and is draped over the arms of the couch and his desk chair. Mountain Dew cans clog his nightstand and parts of his desk. Warren tells me that cleanliness just has a low priority for him. Between constantly studying and playing video games, he doesn't find the time to live like a proper human. I have to resist the urge to pick things up whenever I come over. One, I'm sure he would feel embarrassed. Two, I don't need to get into that habit.

Warren is in some blue pajamas with a solar system motif on them, and his expression is full of concern. "Max, what's wrong? You don't look well."

I nod at his observation. There's no point in trying to deny the obvious. I'm decidedly _not_ doing alright. I tell him about my nightmares, even describing how freaked out I was over the San Francisco version of him chasing me through the city. Warren patiently hears my fucked up tale, and he his face gradually loses color as I go on. I don't think he can stand hearing some of the things that I've had to endure.

We remain silent for a while after I finish. I imagine it's hard for him to say anything to something so messed up even if he was fully awake. Part of me feels awful for just unloading on him like this. He's probably taking all of this harder than he should because I know that he still hasn't fully gotten over his feelings for me as much as he tries to hide it. I still catch him looking at me wistfully when he thinks I'm not paying attention. I still see his face light up whenever he first sees me. I know that he hasn't gone out with Brooke even though she clearly wants his attention. What am I doing to my friend? Should I just leave him alone for a while so that he can figure things out? I don't think I can do that though. These timeline jumps are screwing with me, and I _need_ someone to talk to about them. Someone who won't think I'm just insane. Plus, only Warren could think of some way to stop this rift thing in my room. I'm so selfish. Do I have to be?

Warren breaks the silence with a yawn. He quickly apologizes, but I stop him and give him one of my own for coming by so early. I then explain waking up next to Victoria and how other me has fucked with me. Warren manages a slight smile as I finish. "I know."

"What? How the hell could you possibly know?"

"Other you and Victoria didn't try to hide what you two were doing last night…" Warren has a huge shit-eating grin on his face. He's probably imagining what went down in Victoria's room last night. Perv. "And word got around. Umm… everyone at Blackwell probably knows what happened by now because I'm usually the last one to hear about this stuff. There's a video shot outside of Victoria's room that has audio of you two. I might have seen it one and a half times." Warren gazes at the laundry on his floor as he sheepishly admits this.

"Fuck," I squeak out as I slump on the couch. An already awkward situation has just gotten even more so. How the hell am I going to explain this to Victoria? To everyone else?

"Well, look on the bright side," Warren hesitantly replies. "We can reset your phone and laptop to their factory settings so that you can get into them. You will lose all of your information, though."

"At least there's that." I dig into my pockets for my phone and then panic when I can't find it. "Shit! I must have left my phone in Victoria's room. I'm so not ready for that conversation."

Warren sits next to me on the couch. I can sense him wanting to hold me, so I scoot a bit further away from him. Hopefully he will get the hint, but Warren's not the most perceptive guy. It's actually annoying how oblivious he can be towards my feelings.

"I was hoping you would have some idea on what this all means or how I could make things better."

Warren scratches his chin. "I have no ranks in my knowledge: relationships skill, so this will be a pure intelligence roll. Good thing that's my main stat. Who needs dexterity, strength, or charisma?"

I give him an eye roll. "Not that silly. About what my nightmare meant. What the hell is going on in the asylum? Why were Dr. Price and Dean disagreeing about my treatment? Why did my Chloe want me to escape the Dark Room by any means necessary? Why was her reality so horrible?"

Warren hesitates a few seconds before responding, clearing considering whether to say what's on his mind. "I'm going to assume your nightmares mean something more than just a normal nightmare. They sound too complex, and who knows what effects your powers have on you? Plus, when you dream normally, you jump to a different timeline. You said that one of the timelines you went to was the Dark Room, right?"

I nod, unable to talk about it. I probably should get that shit off my chest, but I can only do that with Chloe.

"So that means there's another version of you trapped in that timeline."

I respond with another nod. Where is he going with this? Chloe asked me for help.

"And you just told me that one of the things the Chloe in your nightmare did was pull away from a kiss, explaining that it was like masturbation."

I connect the dots that Warren is laying out in front of me. "Shit. That was me. The version of me trapped in the Dark Room. It sounded like she was with a group in the nightmare. That means that group is probably just other versions of myself from different timelines. Why would they do all of that to me?"

Warren shrugs. "Bitches be crazy?" His attempt at humor just falls completely flat because it sounds so out of character, which is sort of funny in of itself.

I ignore Warren's failed joke. "So that was the other me who I trapped there after I left. No wonder she sounded so desperate, so alone. How could I just abandon her to that monster? I can't just leave her like that. Not when she's there in the first place because I photo jumped. I need to timeline jump again for her. " My expression darkens as I think about what she is having to endure because I needed to rescue Chloe.

"Max, be careful. I don't know what would happen to you if you…" Warren's voice trails off as he is having difficulty wrapping his head around the last word.

"Don't worry. I have no intention of letting that asshole win. I'm probably going there the next time I jump, but I will be ready this time. I'm going to escape." I almost fully believe all of this, though a voice in the back of my head tells me that Jefferson is so much smarter than me. That I'm doomed to fail. I banish those thoughts as I steel my resolve. I have to do this. She needs me. "I just wish I could prevent other me from taking over. Mind keeping an eye on me? Our safe word will be 'tacos.'"

"Tacos? That's a bit random. How about 'Geronimo?'"

I shake my head. "No. Better random so she can't guess it."

Warren nods his head in agreement, and I take my leave. I need to go back to my room and take care of this. The me in that awful timeline doesn't deserve to spend one more second trapped in that horrible chair. Maybe I can somehow play to Jefferson's ego to get him off guard so I can find an opening to send a message to David. I'm concerned that he hasn't figured it out by now.

I head back to my room. Thankfully, it is still early enough that no one else is around. I don't know if I could deal with people's judgment right now. I reach the cocoon of my room and close the door behind me, drawing a deep breath as I do so. I'm going to succeed. I have to.

I get into bed and quickly fall asleep.

* * *

Clank. Clank. Clank. Woosh. I hear metal scraping against something and then a release. I open my eyes to American Rust. I'm bound, sitting on the ground behind a man digging into the dirt. There's already quite a big hole, and I struggle against my restraints. The man turns, and I see Jefferson give me a smile. "Hi there, Max. I can see by the confused expression on your face that you have returned to me. Good timing because I was about to tire of the other version of you."

Jefferson turns around and keeps digging.

"What the fuck are you doing then? Stop this! I'm back."

Jefferson sighs but continues his work. "Don't be scared, Max. Like I said before, I can't kill someone with a gift. This hole isn't for you. It's for a meddlesome security guard."

With that, I look to my left and I stare at David's lifeless eyes rolled into the back of his head. I resist the overwhelming urge to scream. I can feel the sound begging to be released from the back of my throat, but I can't let Jefferson know how fucking scared I am right now. My hope for someone else to rescue me is lying dead next to me. Shit. David didn't deserve to be killed by a psycho teacher and buried in a shitty junkyard. What the hell is Joyce going to do without him and Chloe?

After some time, Jefferson finishes his work and wipes some sweat off his brow. He then sequesters David's corpse into the fresh grave and covers it. "There, now they can be a family again." Jefferson smiles to himself, quite pleased with his work.

What the hell happened? Did David find the Dark Room only to be killed by Jefferson? I think back to that fateful Friday when David saved my life. How many times did I see David die then? I remember how the shock of it quickly wore off as I kept rewinding to find some way to save him. Seeing Jefferson brutally murder David over and over quickly lost its shock value on me. What does that say about me? How could I so calmly direct David even though I knew the consequences of failure? That seeing him die didn't really phase me?

Now it's different. I guess because it's so final. There's no way I can use my powers to take this back. Seeing him there lying beside me… I can't help but feel that somehow this is my fault. That I could have done something different. That I should have found some way to escape the Dark Room without my powers so I wouldn't create a timeline with another version of me helplessly trapped there and abandoned.

"Well, now that job is done, it's done to return to my real work. Let's go, Max. I'm sure your friend misses you." Jefferson helps me up, leads me to his car, and gently places me in the back seat.

* * *

I'm strapped back in the chair. Again. It seems that no matter what happens, no matter what I do, I always end up back here. Is this some cosmic karma for screwing up so much when I try to fix things? It's time I set things right here. Somehow.

Victoria is passed out on the couch. She's still alive as I see her breathing deeply, but I can only guess at how she's doing. How does anyone cope with all of this? I've been okay only because I cheated and found a way out with my powers. I definitely would have lost it by now had I been forced to be here for days on end. Other me has strength that I will never know.

"Mr. Jefferson, could you wake Victoria up?" I hate asking this asshole for anything, but I need to know. "I would like to see how she is."

Jefferson sighs heavily. "I would advise against that, Max. She's not quite the same person since you left. I haven't put her out of her misery yet because of you. I think she would welcome it by now."

"I need to speak with her. Please." I shoot Jefferson a stern look. Not sure what good that's going to do. I'm powerless against him, and he knows it. At least he'll understand that I'm serious about this.

"Fine," Jefferson groans. "You are lucky I have a soft spot for you, Max." Jefferson goes to the couch and shakes Victoria, perhaps much more violently than was necessary. Jeffershit quickly goes to cart and preps another syringe as the Queen Bee groggily squirms on the couch.

A few second pass as Victoria gradually becomes aware of her surroundings and pushes back the drug-induced fog in her head. As she does, Victoria starts screaming. It's the most desperate, cringeworthy wail that I've ever heard. I try to talk to her, but the Victoria I knew is no longer there. It feels like she's missing more than just her ear.

Jefferson returns to the couch and looks at me with the needle in his glove-covered hand. I don't know how much more of this I can take. Forgive me, Victoria. I nod at Jefferson, and he puts my friend back to sleep.

"I tried to warn you, Max. You know, I could prevent her from feeling that again." Jefferson looks at me expectantly, perhaps wondering if I have it in me to order the death of a friend. I shake my head vigorously. Jefferson sighs. "Pity."

My former teacher moves Victoria to the other side of the couch and takes a seat, facing me. "Max, Max, Max. What am I to do with you?"

I squirm in my chair. "What do you mean?"

"As useful as your powers are, I'm running out of my posing aids, and I don't have my protege around to procure more. You can understand that having you around is a bit of a liability. Just think if you were ever to get out. I would be powerless against you. And you know that I'm just a bit of a control freak. So, Max, we find ourselves in an awkward situation." Jefferson studies my face as he speaks, probably trying to see if my expression changes as he implies that he needs to kill me. I try hard not to give him the satisfaction of seeing a terrified look draped on my face, but I can't tell if I was successful. Jefferson doesn't give any hint if he was satisfied with my reaction.

"Don't you need me? Just think what you could do with my abilities. How rich you could become. How you could avoid detection when you work. You _do_ need me, Mr. Jefferson." I am almost pleading with him. I'm so disgusted with myself for this, but I can't let him kill me. What would happen to me? Would I die? Or would other me pay the price as I would find myself in my dorm room? I don't want to find out.

"I already have a good amount of money from that lottery ticket you provided for me. Plus, you were kind enough to ensure that it wasn't an exact match. No one cares who has a ticket with most of the winning numbers. I appreciate that, Max. So thoughtful of you to keep me under the radar." Jefferson gives me a mocking laugh. Motherfucker. He's lucky I can't do anything to him. I can't stop thinking of how satisfying it would be to take Jefferson's syringe and plunge it into his eye, knocking off his dumb hipster glasses in the process. Then I shudder, cursing myself. Did Jefferson make me have violent thoughts? Or was it something I already had in myself?

"But you could use me to prevent yourself from ever getting caught! That has to be valuable to you. The ability to do your work without worry." I hope this argument works. Otherwise, I don't like where this is going.

Jefferson's mocking laugh grows much deeper. "I don't need help to avoid incompetent law enforcement. I'm way too smart for them. You don't know how long I've been making art, Max. Longer than you have been alive. I don't need assistance from a little teenage brat, even one with a gift. Nobody knows about me unless I allow them to know. Nobody. Not even you and your dumb slut of a friend knew about me. That is, not until I decided that to let you know with a gunshot." Jefferson's voice gets louder, up to a yell. "Christ, the audacity! You _actually_ think that you can be of any help to me? Don't you know who I am? I'm Mark fucking Jefferson! I don't need help from spoiled art school kids! I already got what I needed from you, Max. You were an excellent subject, and you gave me a fund to replace the revenue stream I lost with Nathan's unfortunate death. You are just a liability, Max. It's time to end this."

Jefferson goes back to his cart and refills his syringe. "Don't worry, Max. This won't hurt… much."

No, no, no. It can't end like this. What am I going to do? This guy is so full of himself that there's nothing I can give him, right?

Jefferson practically dances as he approaches me with the syringe. He must be enjoying this so much. I'm sure he's relishing this, defeating someone with superpowers with just his intellect. Or maybe it's just the fucking sick pleasure he must get when he takes a life.

Suddenly, I hear a crash as one of the tripods falls over. Jefferson looks over and sees a spiked bracelet. "How did this get here?" He shrugs and tosses it aside and then resumes his dance towards me.

"What about not being able to kill someone with a gift? Were you just bullshitting me like you bullshit everyone else?" I'm grabbing at straws here. What the fuck do I say to him to stop this? Can I stop him? My god, I'm about to die. Here in this goddamn bunker. Chloe will never know what happened to me. All she will know is that I abandoned her yet again. That thought is almost as depressing as my imminent death.

Jefferson stops his approach. "It's true that you do have a gift, Max. And I'm not just referring to your unusual ability. You have an innate talent in finding great shots. You just can't teach that. Poor Victoria here has great technical ability, but she will never be in your class when it comes to composing an interesting photograph. It really is a shame that it has to end like this. You have such great potential like me when I was your age." Jefferson says that last bit with what seems to be genuine regret.

Jefferson sees himself in me? The thought sends a cold shiver down my spine. How could I possibly remind him of himself? But that gives me an idea. There is one thing I can give him. _Escape the Dark Room by any means necessary._ Chloe's plea comes back to me, a mantra that steels my resolve. "Mark." The name is like acid coming off my tongue, but I need to get his attention. "I can be the student that Nathan never could be. Please. We both know that even though I've said some harsh things to you lately, I admire your work. I came to Blackwell just to learn from the best. From you."

My "admission" stops Jefferson in his tracks. "Intriguing. I did so enjoying passing my expertise onto Nathan, but he was no artist. Sure, he had a gift with shadows, but nothing more. I want to believe you, but it's still too much of a risk." Jefferson resumes his march back to me.

"No, Mr. Jefferson! I really want this. Please!" I'm now reduced to begging for my life with a complete psychopath. I'm so sorry other me. I don't know where you are now, but I hope that you found some peace.

Jefferson answers with a smirk as he reaches my side. "Even when faced with death, you still maintain your purity. Goodbye, Max. It has been a pleasure." No David to save me this time. This is how my life ends. I try to fill my head with thoughts of my girlfriend. I want her to have my final moments, but I can't stop thinking about that needle. About the end.

Jefferson plunges the needle into my neck. I close my eyes, tears flowing freely now that I know I've failed. The world recedes around me.

* * *

Chloe smiles at me. I'm so nervous, but I know we'll make it through this. Together. As we always have done.

Dog, she's so beautiful. I can't believe I got her to wear a dress for this. Of course, it has a punk flair to it. She almost insisted on wearing her beanie, but after I gave her a look and told her that I would not have a bunch of photos with that beanie in them, she relented.

It seems like it's taken forever, but we are finally here. I've been counting down the days with a calendar that Chloe constantly mocks, but it's happened. I've never been happier.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between Chloe Elizabeth Price and Maxine…" Pastor Preece grimaces as I'm sure he just realized that he screwed the one thing up that I begged him not to. Then again, I can't be too angry. I'm lucky he was willing to do this for us. Not many are so open. Plus, it's nice to have him here. He could do a pretty mean Larry David cosplay if he wanted. "Err, Max Caulfield."

I look to the front row and give everyone there a huge smile. Dad is trying very hard not to get emotional, and mom has her head against his shoulder. Joyce looks radiant in her light green sundress, and she's proudly looking at Chloe with tears squirming out of her eyes. William reassures her with a touch. William. I'm suddenly very, very happy that he's here. Why is that? Of course he wouldn't miss his daughter's wedding. We are going to be such a happy family.

William calls out to me. "Max!" The hell?

"Max!"

"MAX!"

* * *

"MAX!"

I groan and slowly open my eyes. Am I going to open them to heaven or something worse? I don't know which I deserve. The first thing I see when I come to is Jefferson leaning over me. I guess it's that other place. Great.

"Good to see you are awake. I was afraid that I accidently gave you too much. That would have been such a waste." Jefferson shoots me a wide smile.

"Wha…?" I manage to spit out through the grogginess.

Jefferson continues to give me a creepy smile. "I'm sorry for the theatrics, Max. I wanted to see how you would react if you thought you were going to die. Plus, I needed you knocked out so I had time to think about your proposal. Like I said, I want to believe you, Max. Make me believe."

He clearly does want me as his student as he has kept me alive. How do I convince him that I'm being genuine? Maybe I can just appeal to his vanity. "It's true, Mr. Jefferson. Please. I know I have some talent, but my photos are mainly just stupid selfies. Your images are so much deeper. They are truly art. They reflect the world as it really is, not just the shallow veneer that everyone else convinces themselves is reality. Please. I need to know how you do it."

Jefferson smiles at me. "Thank you, Max. Part of me knew that you understood. We are so similar, after all. Only a fellow artist could appreciate my work. While you were out, I've prepared for a photo shoot." Oh god, who has he captured this time? Can I really do this? At least he seems convinced that I want to learn from him. I just don't know if I can go through with it.

"Once you get your bearings, Max, it will be time for your first lesson. Your first _real_ lesson." Jefferson looks practically giddy with excitement. I've never seen him like this before.

He waits a few moments and then moves my chair around and pushes me towards the couch. "I'm afraid I can't let you move around to frame your shots just the way you want to. I hope you understand. I still can't trust you yet, but maybe we'll get there. Or maybe I will realize that I made a mistake earlier by not killing you. Your choice, Max."

What the hell is he going to make me do? Will I have to take sick photos of drugged women? Am I going to be the cause of more pain and suffering? What have I done? _Escape the Dark Room by any means necessary._ Chloe's… err… my words echo in my head. I need to keep up this charade long enough to figure out how to escape. I've found a way out once before. I can do it again.

I hear Jefferson move to the other side of the plastic divider and drag something towards me. Oh god. Who's that? How am I going to fix this?

The first thing I notice is the overpowering stench. I've smelled this before in American Rust. With Rachel. What the fuck? Jefferson's smooth voice brings me back from my thoughts. "I had to improvise with your models. You aren't ready for a live one, and where would I get one in this ghost town?"

Oh no. This can't be what I think it's going to be. Please no.

Jefferson drags a body in front of the white screen. The body is wearing a bag on its head, but I already know who it is. That familiar punk outfit is still on her corpse.

Jefferson removes the bag from Chloe's head, and I am struck by her lifeless eyes, still open in shock. The bullet wound is still prominently displayed on her forehead. Her body is stiff but otherwise in decent shape. The awful smell is the worst part.

I retch after Chloe's face is revealed. I'll never be able to get this image out of my head. Jefferson seems disappointed after he notices the fresh vomit on the floor. "I see that you don't have what it takes to be a great photographer. Pity."

Shit. I can't give him any excuse to kill me. I better take this back and pretend everything's alright. I raise my right hand and rewind my reaction away. The vomit returns to my mouth, and I'm forced to swallow it to remove the evidence. It's fucking disgusting, but I need to be strong. For other me. For Chloe. _Escape the Dark Room by any means necessary._

I return to the normal flow of time and put on a mask of indifference as Jefferson removes Chloe's bag. Jefferson gives me an excited grin. "I'm glad I could reunite you with your partner. You should be able to come up with some great shots as you had a connection with her."

Jefferson ties a rope around both of us and then removes the restraints covering my hands. I stretch my arms out, and Jefferson hands me one of his digital cameras. "Lesson one. It's time you stopped using a toy for your work. Now, take some shots. I'll be your hands. Direct me to pose your model."

Oh god. I'm going to have to do this. I'm sorry, Chloe.

I have no clue about what to do. I'm not some sick pervert like Jefferson. I should just imitate him. That will feed his ego. I grit my teeth and direct Jefferson to pose Chloe in ways that resemble his photos while I take some shots. Throughout, Jefferson gives me a few "good, good" as feedback. After the shoot, Jefferson comes to me and inspects my work. A smile creeps onto his face as he looks over the images.

"I knew that you learned something from me," Jefferson proudly comments. "I started out similarly to this, taking shots of lifeless models. It's nice to see my good taste rub off on you." He then looks up from the camera and smiles at me. "Portraiture is one of the highest forms of our art, Max. You know that there is a tradition of family portraits. Let's see you continue in that tradition." Jeffershit then walks behind me, and I can hear him moving something past the plastic sheeting separating the Dark Room from its antichamber.

Soon, David appears next to his stepdaughter. This is so fucked up. I summon all of my willpower to avoid looking upset by this perversity. I have to continue to be strong for others. I continue to direct Jefferson to pose the two similarly to how he would. I take some more shots, and I start thinking about how I'm going to get out of this. Maybe I can get myself out of this rope and away by constantly rewinding. I'm not sure I'll have another chance to have my hands free. Once I am out of this damn chair, I can use my rewind to run away.

I'm going to need to distract Jefferson for a bit so I have the opportunity to rewind without him noticing. I'm going to need to do something awful. Please forgive me, Chloe and David. "Umm… Mr. Jefferson?" I meekly ask.

Jefferson looks up at me. "Yes, my student?"

"I was thinking… maybe it would be good to subvert the family photo and have them… do things to each other that they wouldn't do while alive." The thought is repulsive, but I can't let him know that. _Escape the Dark Room by any means necessary._ I inwardly strain to avoid letting my true feelings reveal themselves on my face.

"That's a good idea, Max. I knew you had an eye for this work. What exactly do you want me to do to them?" Jefferson smirks as he asks the question. He must be getting off on having me describe this to him. His fantasy of corrupting me is exciting him.

"Well, you could sort of have them together in an intimate embrace." I spit this out awkwardly, but that's likely fine as it feeds into the idea that my purity is getting slowly corrupted.

Jefferson's smirk grows wider. "Very good, Max. I'll do as you instructed." He begins to pose the lifeless bodies of Chloe and David as I asked, and I wait a few seconds to see if he's sufficiently distracted before I start undoing the rope tied around me. I go into Blackwell ninja mode, carefully working the knot as quickly and quietly as possible. I need to be fast as I don't think I can rewind with this thing tied around me and Jefferson. It's too bad I wasn't in Girl Scouts. I could have used those rope skills right about now.

Jefferson carefully poses the corpses in many different positions, and he mutters to himself about finding the right shot. His back is to me, and he seems to not notice me busy undoing the rope. He tied this pretty tight, but I'm making significant progress. Only a few more moments and I'll be free of it. Then I can start abusing my rewind to free my legs. Sweat begins to form at my brow as the stress of the situation begins to wear on me.

Suddenly, Jefferson looks up from his work. I hastily place the camera in front of the knot, hoping to obscure my work. "Max, are you okay? You seem a bit on edge."

Shit. He must see just how nervous I am. I need to give him something to throw him off. "Well… I was really attracted to Chloe when she was alive, so this is rather awkward. You know… seeing her like that." It has some truth to it, so maybe it will sound believable?

"Really?" Jefferson asks with a note of surprise. "I didn't take you for a deviant, Max. I guess you aren't as pure as I thought. It's a shame really. It makes so much sense now. They way you two looked at each other in the courtyard. How you paused before referring to her as a friend. That she said she would be your date at the party. How could I not see your perversity before now? I must really be blinded to you, Max. I should have killed you earlier."

Jeffershit abandons posing the corpses, leaving them holding each other, and he moves towards me while shaking his head. Fuck. I need to move. I throw the camera at him, and this time I hit him in the head. I don't have time to savor his reaction as I quickly resume untying this knot. Only a few more seconds, and I'll be free.

As I am about to undo the last part of the knot separating me from freedom, Jefferson reaches me and slaps me hard. Blood flows from my nose, and he quickly reties the loosened knot. "YOU STUPID BITCH! You just ruined a very expensive camera. Oh, I'm going to have fun with you now."

That monster goes back to his cart and prepares another syringe. "Don't worry. There's not enough here to kill you, Max. I need to show you just how impure you are first." I struggle against the new knot, but I can't loosen it very easily. Jefferson returns to my side and plunges the needle into my neck. He then removes the rope and takes me out of the chair, placing me next to Chloe.

"Oh, before I forget," Jefferson says with a hint of delight. He goes to his cabinet and retrieves his gun. "Time to put her out of her misery." He shoots Victoria in the head, her blood staining the white couch. He places the gun on the coffee table and picks up a camera.

"NO!" I try to yell out, but the drugs make it sound more like a forceful whimper. I try to rewind, but my powers are blocked. She's really dead now. Another person I couldn't save.

"Now, give your girlfriend a kiss, Max. Show me how utterly depraved you are." There's no way I'm doing that. At this point, he's going to kill me anyway.

"C'mon, Max," Jefferson taunts me. "You will enjoy it, you pervert." I lay still, unresponsive. "Fine. I'll make you." Jefferson moves my lips onto Chloe's. I try to scream, but no sound escapes my throat. Her cold, rotting mouth is unwelcoming, and I try but fail to distract myself with thoughts of my Chloe. I retch all over her, and Jefferson laughs.

"That's no way to treat your lady, Max. I'll have you clean that up with your mouth." After he says this, the metal door to the Dark Room creaks open. Jefferson quickly scampers back to the coffee table to retrieve his gun. Has someone come to rescue me?

Soon, an older woman calls out for David. It's Joyce. She must have seen David's files and came to look for him after he went missing. Oh god, she's going to die, and there's nothing I can do about it. Joyce turns the corner into the Dark Room and screams when she sees the grotesque scene before her. She drops the gun she was carrying, and Jefferson takes the opportunity to shoot her in the stomach. Joyce falls to the floor wounded, and Jefferson grabs her weapon.

"You dumb cunt," Jefferson gloats over Joyce. "Did you honestly think a fucking waitress could possibly be a match for me?! That stomach wound should give you some time to reflect on how pathetic you are before you die."

Jefferson then turns to me and mutters something about there being too many loose ends. It seems like Joyce's intrusion really did upset him despite how much he tried to pretend otherwise. Fucking asshole.

I try to crawl over to her to help, but my limbs are frozen. I hear that monster say that it is time for a family portrait, but that I can't be a part of it. Then he says something about it being time to get rid of his liabilities. I can feel the barrel of his gun pressed against my temple. I breathe short, shallow breaths as I start to panic. The gun remains rested on my head, and Jefferson laughs, clearly enjoying this. Joyce says that she loves me, and that she will be with me in the next life. I close my eyes and wait for the end.

Suddenly, I hear a crash and then a familiar voice tells Jefferson "always take the shot, dickhead." No. I must be really out of it. That cannot be. Jefferson is completely shocked, and he asks how this is possible. He turns to aim his weapon at the shadows. A gunshot rings out.

"NOOOO!"

 **A/N:**

Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but I did warn that it may take longer than usual. I have some of the next chapter written, but I'm not sure how long it will take to turn it around. I want to maintain a weekly update schedule as I am looking to complete the story by the end of December, but I may be forced into a biweekly schedule as the story is picking up. I would rather take my time than sacrifice quality.

In the game, Jefferson readily believes Max when she asks him to take one last photo of her because she wants to be his best subject. He makes a remark along the lines of he almost didn't believe it, but he knows that she finally learned something from him. Jefferson's ego and his eagerness to teach someone led him to believing Max even though up until that point she was really defiant.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

A gunshot rings out.

"NOOOO!" I try to tell, but it only comes out as a whimper. This can't be happening. I am so scared that Jefferson fired the shot. I don't know if I could take seeing him hurt her again.

Jefferson was turning around to aim at the shadows behind me. I turned, and the first thing I noticed was Joyce's mouth dropped open in complete surprise. A form darted from the dark. I then saw it. Something so impossible that I immediately doubted my sanity. A blue-haired woman wearing a mask of steely resolve aimed her gun right at Jefferson. As Jefferson turned around, she fired, not waiting for him to lift his weapon. In a mirror of that awful scene in the junkyard, Chloe shot Jefferson in the head as he was turning around, a surprised expression etched on his face. My former teacher falls to the ground dead.

He's dead! I'm safe! How is this at all possible?

Chloe slumps over, clearly upset over what she just had to do. I remember when she shot Frank after a failed attempt at getting his client book, and even though Jefferson clearly deserved what just happened, Chloe is still in shock that she just took someone's life.

"Chloe, oh god! Thank you!" I'm not sure how audible any of that was. A mustachioed man appears and runs to Joyce in a panic. What the fuck? David? I look over to the corpses lying on the floor together. David and Chloe are still there. How are they also alive?

Chloe ignores me and continues to gaze at Jefferson's body before staring at her own corpse. After a few more seconds, she shakes her head and rushes over to me. "Max! Are you okay?"

I frown and point to where Joyce is lying. "Help her…"

Chloe returns my grimace and quickly heads over to her mother, who is being tended to by her husband. David frantically tries to stop the bleeding, but his efforts are rewarded with more blood. Joyce reaches for Chloe and weakly grabs a hand. "David? Chloe?" Joyce says with great difficulty. "Thought you were dead? So confused. Please save me. Was ready when I thought you were dead. I'm not now."

"Mom, I've missed you so much," Chloe says as she holds her wounded mother, not caring that she is getting blood all over her jacket. "Don't worry. You will be fine. David should know how to help."

"Joyce! Oh my lord!" David takes his buttoned shirt off and uses it to apply pressure to the wound. He then removes his belt and ties it around Joyce's torso. It looks like he is whispering something to himself, but I can't make it out.

"DO SOMETHING," Chloe yells at her stepfather. "You must know how to treat this!"

Tears flow freely from David, but he still yells back at Chloe. "I AM DOING SOMETHING, DAMMIT!" He continues to push down hard on the sound, dying his undershirt red in the process. He curses at himself as he continues to battle the invader cruelly lodged in his wife. David can't escape war no matter where he is.

Joyce wheezes, her breaths growing more shallow. She responds with terror. "Help me… hurts so… much..."

"You will be fine, honey. Save your energy for this fight. You are _not_ dying on me, that's an order." David pushes down hard on the wound, desperately trying to slow the flow of blood.

"I love you so much, mom. I've always known that you are always looking out for me, even when I don't deserve it. You've sacrificed so much for selfish little me. I'm sorry so that you have had me as your daughter." Chloe gives her mother a weary smile.

Joyce shakes her head at her daughter. "Wouldn't… have… anyone… else." She firmly grasps her daughter's hands and looks her in the eye with great love.

"You are just saying that because you…" Chloe cuts herself off as she tries to stop herself from breaking down, the rest of her sentence left unsaid but obvious to all of us.

"Don't you dare say that about yourself, soldier," David barks at Chloe. "You are the most compassionate and loyal person I know. Max is lucky to have you as her girlfriend." David pauses and looks away. "I… love you, Chloe."

My bae is taken aback by the sudden show of love from her nemesis. She wipes her face and smiles at David. "I guess I don't hate you either." Chloe turns back to her mother. "Yeah, Max and I are a thing, mom."

Joyce's eyes grow wide. "You… _finally_ … told her?"

Chloe nods and smiles despite the situation. Joyce beams at her daughter, but then her breaths grow more sporadic. Joyce now looks terrified despite her obvious fatigue. "So… tired. Please..."

David gives his wife a kiss. "NO! You are _not_ leaving me. Just hang in there. I think I've stopped the blood. You will be just fine."

Chloe takes her mother's bloodied hand which had been reaching for her face. "I love you so much, mom. Thanks for always being there for me. I'm so lucky that I've had you in my life. I just want to let you know that I appreciate everything that you have sacrificed for me. Working in a shitty small-town diner to support me when I know you wished for a better life. Being supportive and awesome when I was being a complete bitch after dad died. And when you wanted a little happiness for yourself, I just couldn't take it. I'm so sorry that I've been so horrible to you these last few years. You… and David… didn't deserve that. You are my hero, mom. I couldn't ask for anyone better." After hearing her speak, I get the feeling that Chloe had rehearsed that over and over to herself, never believing that she would actually get the chance to say it to her mother.

"Love… you two… so…" Joyce struggles to say the last word, but falls limp.

"MOM!" Chloe screams. Her emotions shatter her stoic mask, and she slumps over the body of her mother, showering her with tears.

"No! You are not dying on me! I love you so much. You gave me hope when no one else would have anything to do with me. You just can't die here. It's not your time." David continues to work on the wound, refusing to surrender to reality. After a while, he can no longer deny his failure, and he then starts openly weeping. "I didn't even… get to say goodbye… again," David manages to say through his grief.

They have had to endure so much pain, only to have old wounds be ripped open again. To my surprise, Chloe goes over to David and holds him. They embrace each other as they sob over Joyce.

I'm heartbroken seeing Joyce die and the reaction from those that loved her. I am so exhausted from these drugs, and I let them sweep me away to slumber.

* * *

I awaken in the back of Jefferson's car. I start to freak out before I remember that he's dead. Chloe is driving while David is seated beside her. I groan as I struggle against the waning effects of Jefferson's drugs. Chloe notices me wake up and immediately pulls the car over. David gets out of the car and walks away, saying that he would give us a minute alone.

I sit myself up, and Chloe joins me in the back seat. "Max! Are you okay? I can't believe what that asshole made you do." Chloe starts holding me, and whispers into my ear. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." Chloe seems different from the last time I was with her. Somehow more at peace.

"Chloe! I'm so sorry. I..." I can't continue any further before all the pain I have endured these last couple days comes barging out through a flood of tears. Chloe holds me closer and sobs alongside me. We continue like that for a few minutes before we slowly regain our composure.

"How the heck did you get here? Are you _my_ Chloe?" I'm so happy that she's here with me, but part of me is wondering if this is too good to be true. Maybe Jefferson broke me, and I really am going insane.

Chloe gives me her self-satisfied smirk, but it noticeably lacks the warmth that is usually behind it. "It's me. I won't dare you to kiss me, but I think we both need one right now."

I smile and give my girlfriend a remorseful kiss, which she eagerly shares. As my lips touch hers, I am immediately reminded of my kiss with Chloe's corpse. I break away from her and start crying uncontrollably. Jefferson has taken so much from me. He took away my love of photography. He took the last innocence of my childhood. And now he's taken away the thing I value most-being close to my girlfriend. I won't ever be able to forget that horrifying moment when I was forced against the cold, decaying body of the woman I love.

Chloe frowns and holds me. She just saw her mother die in her arms, yet she's so supportive of me. She's always there for me when I need her the most. I've missed her so much, and somehow she came to me just when I thought all was lost. I owe her everything. I melt into her arms, trying to push away memories of the last few days as I find comfort in her embrace. "How is this possible?" I ask, not really expecting an answer.

"I went through the rift. I could see everything through it. I saw you with that monster… I saw him put a fucking gun to your head. I had to jump through and save you." Chloe holds me even tighter as if she was afraid that I would suddenly disappear.

I squirm away from my bae and shoot her a glare. "How could you do that? You had no idea what would happen to you! I don't know if I could stand losing you all over again."

My girlfriend is stunned as she probably was just expecting me to be grateful for her saving my life. "Well, I did test the waters some by throwing my bracelet through the rift. I would have gone through then, but your dorm room is on the second floor. I had to figure out a way to get a ladder over there, and that took a while."

I hold Chloe's hands to show her that while I am upset, I'm glad she's here. "That was still very stupid of you. You had no idea what would happen if you entered the rift! How could you be so careless?"

Chloe squeezes my hands and raises her voice. "That asshole had a gun to your head! Do you think that I can live without you any more than you can without me? David tried to stop me from entering, but I punched him and escaped. There was _no_ way that I wasn't going to be there for you. I feel guilty enough as is having to rely on David to save you the first time and for you having to constantly save my sorry ass. I didn't give it a second thought to being your hero. I _had_ to do it, Max."

"Why were you even at the rift in the first place?" Shouldn't we have been back in Seattle? What was she doing staying in Arcadia Bay?

"Well, after you left, David obviously found out about you. With the help of other you, we told him everything. He somehow believed us. At first, other you was being a total bitch and was insisting that we go back to Seattle even though I needed some time with David after he found out about everything. But, this morning, she was like a totally different person. She recommended that I go to the rift to see if there was any way to help you. She even told me that she wishes the best for me and you and that she was sorry for trying to force herself on me."

"Wowser." It's all I can think of saying. That version of me must have had a change of heart after my nightmare. Maybe she was Dean? He didn't seem cool with Dr. Price's proposed treatment.

Chloe can't help but to grin at my goofy Maxism and continues. "David ended up tagging along because he wanted to make sure I was safe traveling through the ruins of Blackwell. I'm sure he was also curious about the rift as well. We could see everything that went on around you through the rift."

I return my girlfriend's smile. "I've missed you so much. I'm still a bit upset that you took such a huge risk, but I understand. I probably would have done the same for you. I love you beyond what words can express."

"To borrow a line from that timeless movie, _Ghost_ , 'ditto.'" My girlfriend kisses the top of my head and strokes my hair, which immediately puts me at ease.

"You are quoting _Ghost_? You are a huge romantic sap, Miss Price. I've caught onto you." I continue smiling at her. I'm so happy she's back with me.

Instead of returning my smile, Chloe just wistfully sighs. "You are right. Glad mom got to hear that we were together before…"

Of course she's still upset. She just lost her mom, doofus. I need to be more thoughtful about her feelings. She just had to go through something awful, and who knows how much jumping through that rift screwed with her head? Even if there wasn't any side effects, it still must be unnerving just jumping through like that because she had no idea if it was safe. I place a hand a her shoulder and whisper to her that I'm sorry.

She gives me a forced smile and says it is alright. "I mean, that wasn't _really_ mom, right? That was a different person. My mom died alone in a fucking diner. I didn't get to say goodbye to her, so as awful as that just was, it helped. She may be different, but it felt like I got the chance to say goodbye. That's more than I got with dad."

I'm about to say something, but Chloe interrupts me. "Look, enough about me. You just went through hell. That piece of shit did so many horrific things to you and Victoria. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you sooner. I promise that from here on out, I'll be there for you. I love you so much, Max."

I give her a peck on the cheek. "I love you too, sweetie. I need to figure out what to do with the other version of me in this timeline. I owe her for saving me from a really fucked up nightmare." I then describe the events of the previous evening along with what happened after I woke up. Through my retelling, I pause here and there to compose myself and wipe away some loose tears. Chloe would then reassure me with a rub of my back. I didn't go into much detail about the Victoria thing other than I was put in another compromising situation, and now she probably thinks we are dating.

"God, Victoria is _still_ annoying even when she is nice to you," Chloe complains. "And that nightmare… I don't even know what to say. So screwed up. So, you suggested that it could be other versions of you doing that? No wonder the other you in my timeline was acting so differently."

"Yeah, I think she had a change of heart after seeing me go through all of that crap," I shrug.

"Speaking of other yous, what are we going to do with the one from this timeline? I know you feel like you owe her for saving you from that awful nightmare."

Chloe's not going to like what I'm about to ask her, but I need to do it anyway. "I know that you just want to be with me, especially after rescuing me from Jeffershit, but could you please just stay here for a little bit to help her? She's been trapped for about a week, and everyone thinks she's dead. She could really use a friendly face right now."

To my surprise, Chloe nods. "Already thought of that. We are actually headed to Seattle right now. I haven't called your-err, other you's?- folks because that's an awkward conversation I'm not up for right now. 'Hi, yeah, it's Chloe. You know, Max's best friend that she hasn't seen in five years. Anyway, I know that you think your daughter is dead, but it turns out that she was merely kidnapped and tortured by a fucking psychopath for over a week. No big deal. Just thought I would let you know, bye!' Yeah, not something I should do."

Chloe's willingness to take on other me really surprised me. She's not one to deny herself of what she wants, and she's had to be apart me for so long. Now she's willing to be a friend to a complete stranger and remain separated from me for a little while.

"I was wondering if I should make that call. I don't know if my parents would really give up on me without seeing my body, but it has been over a week. I'm also not sure if other me can handle that call, but do I want to take that away from her? I mean, she's been tortured for a week straight. Shouldn't she be the one to first talk to my parents? Doesn't she deserve to see their reaction at the news that she's still alive?" I shake my head. This time travel bullshit ever gets any easier, especially now that I'm having to deal with multiple timelines.

My girlfriend sighs. "That's tough. If it was me, I would want to see my parents' faces when they get the news. That's why we are driving to Seattle. The plan is to drop her off at your-her-parents after you leave. You shouldn't make the call now. Don't take that away from her. Do you think your folks are still in Seattle?"

"Yeah, they should be. Only other place they would be is Arcadia Bay looking for me, but I imagine they hired some private detective to do that."

"Good. We should get back on the road. No telling how much time you have left, and the closer we are to Seattle the better. Other you is not going to really know who I am, but maybe she will be able to tell that I care. As soon as she is safely home with her parents, I'm going back to Arcadia with David so we can find a way out of here. I'm hoping that there's another rift in this timeline, and I can jump through it to find you again. It worked once…"

"That would be so awesome, but we need to figure out some way to somehow get rid of these rifts. They can't be good for reality, right? Plus, I need to go back to the William timeline and see if there's going to be a storm coming there because I decided to save Victoria."

Chloe's eyes light up. "That's right! There's a timeline with dad still alive! OH MY GOD! If I can jump through another rift, I can see him!" My girlfriend is practically bouncing with excitement, which is especially out of place considering what just happened to her earlier.

"You may not like what you see," I quickly respond, hoping to cut into Chloe's heightened expectations. "I mean, he killed Victoria. I don't think he meant to, but he's really different from the man you remember. He's not really your father, even more so than this Joyce was your mother."

"No, I know my father," Chloe shakes her head. "He's the sweetest, most gentle person, aside from you, of course. I can't wait to see him again!"

At this, David awkwardly comes back to the car. "We should probably get back on the road. Still have a ways to go until Seattle."

Chloe and I take the back seat and sit closely together, hand in hand. David starts to pull back onto the road, but then a young blonde man wearing a distinct red jacket stands in our path. How is this possible? Before I can even start to think about this, a hear some banging on wood. What?

* * *

I awaken to a series of loud, quick knocks at my door. I rub my eyes, trying to adjust to my new reality. Nathan! Isn't he supposed to be dead? Did Jefferson not kill him? Is Chloe, David, and other me safe? They are in a car, so probably. They can just drive away, right? The knocking stops and is replaced by desperate sobbing. Whoever is on the other side of my door clearly needs me. I can't go back to sleep now. I'm too wound up. I better help whoever needs it here.

"Coming!" I manage to squeak out, my voice still not strong after just waking up. I get out of bed as quickly as I can and stumble towards the door. It's still very dark outside, so it must still be in the middle of the night. Who would knock on my door at this hour and break down crying? I hope nothing has happened to Kate. I could see something terrible occurring and her coming to me in desperation.

I get to my door and try the knob before silently cursing myself at forgetting that I've locked it. I feel around for the lock and finally open the door to see a figure hunched over on the floor next to my room, crying into her arms. It's too dark to see who it is, but whoever it is obviously needs me. I go over to the crying woman, and I help her up and into my room, placing her on my couch. The woman continues to sob, and I move back to my bed to get the lights along my memorial wall.

After a few awkward moments of groping around for the switch, light storms into my room. The figure on my couch comes to life, and I immediately notice her red silk pajamas. Kate would never wear those. I can't see her face as it's still buried in her arms, but I know who this is.

"Victoria… what's wrong?" Even though this Victoria has never cried in front of me like this, I have experience in calming her. I sit beside her on the couch, and she turns to sob in my shoulder as I hold her. We sit there for a good while with her coating my shirt with tears while I rub her back.

Eventually, Victoria settles down and looks down on the floor in shame. She sits there in silence as I move to the other end of the couch. Is she debating whether to say anything? If I hadn't see the alternate Victoria, I may never have guessed that she was capable of breaking down so completely. She's probably ashamed at herself for being here. She's way too proud to just break down in front of my door like this, even if she thinks we are together now. What the hell happened to her?

Victoria deeply sighs. "M-max…" She suddenly stops and continues to stare at my floor rug. I pause, unsure of what to do. What is she so afraid to say?

"I shouldn't be here, I'm so sorry." Victoria tries to get up but collapses back on the couch. "Fuck, I can't even leave properly!" The Queen Bee punches a pillow next to her.

"It's okay. I'm here for you. What's going on?"

Victoria avoids looking at me, instead placing her gaze on my keep calm and carry on rug. I'm sure she's trying to tell herself that right now, but I can see that she's barely holding it together. "I-i'm so sorry. You must be getting it just as bad as me."

What could she be talking about? What would be so bad? I think about the last time I was here. Victoria and I were in bed together, and Warren knew because of a video that had audio of us… together. That must be it. "I've been avoiding people. Honestly, I slept away yesterday, and you just woke up."

Victoria looks relieved. "Thank god. It's not good right now, Max. I understand why you left in the middle of the night. We don't need to get in trouble for getting caught being together. That fucking video, though. It must be some karma for me, I guess. I had a video of Kate kissing a bunch of guys at a Vortex Club party, and I was going to post it online. I don't know why…"

I simply nod in response. It's better that I let her finish what she has to say.

"Okay, that's bullshit. I do know why. I thought it was hilarious that someone like Kate would be doing that. I enjoyed exposing her for the hypocrite that I thought she was. Plus, I knew that if I posted it, I would be the talk of Blackwell. I never thought… that Nathan drugged her. When he got arrested, I stopped myself from posting it. I felt so ashamed that I was so ready to do that to Kate. I'm better than that, though it seems that only you see that."

"You are, Victoria. You are such a kind, talented person. I wish you would let others see that instead of playing this popularity game."

I was intending to make her feel better, but my words had the opposite effect. Tears reemerge from Victoria's eyes. "I-i deserve everything."

I try to comfort her, but she doesn't let me. "Vic…"

"No, Max. I do deserve this. I deserve to hear everyone call me a slut. I deserve catching Courtney graffiti my room with 'Enjoy your tongue record, whore.' I deserve Wells threatening to expel me for the video. I deserve my parents disowning me. I deserve _all_ of this. You are too good to me, Max. I don't know what I would do without you. I... love you, Max." Victoria shoots me a slight smile.

She _loves_ me? This is all happening so fast. Poor Victoria, she's in such a bad spot, and now she's staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to reciprocate her feelings. Now she's starting to frown, thinking I just used her the other day. I can't let her think that. She might end up on the roof like Kate. Do something!

I lean over, intending to give her a kiss on the cheek. It's a compromise between what she's expecting and what I'm comfortable telling Chloe. At the last second, Victoria turns, and I plant one right on her lips. She smiles, but there's not much happiness behind it. It's like she just got what she was expecting. "I… care for you, Victoria. I'm so sorry that you have been going through all of that and that I haven't been there for you."

"I understand not wanting to face the world after that video. I might have been able to handle this mountain of shit without losing it had it not been for these fucking dreams."

"Dreams?" I remember in her note that came with my photo album that she mentioned having dreams of us together. There was even an extra picture of the beach, which she says reminded her of one. Wait. I remember another picture of a beach. One from William's timeline in which Maxine and Victoria are sunbathing. Is she dreaming of that? How is that possible? It would explain why she trusts me so much though.

Victoria remains silent in response to my question for a time. Eventually, probably feeling like she needs to say something, she shrugs. "I want to tell you, Max, but you would never believe me. _I_ don't believe me."

"I know how that feels," I give her a smile. "Whatever you say won't be nearly as insane as some of the things I've seen. You can trust me."

"You know," Victoria returns my grin, "I just became friends with you and things have been moving fast, but somehow I know that's true. I feel like I can trust you with anything."

Why does she feel so close to me? She's right, we just became friends at the hospital. I know we did things in her room, but that alone can't explain why she trusts me so much. She must be having dreams of us together in William's timeline.

Victoria returns her gaze to my floor, and her face darkens. "You know how I told you about dreaming of you and me together?"

I nod. Okay, here's where I get confirmation.

"I been having some other… dreams of us. All of these dreams feel so real that I'm not sure they are actually dreams. They feel more like memories." Victoria shifts around in her seat nervously. This feels like some bizarro reality in which the Queen Bee has became the shy nerd girl.

"What other dreams?"

A tear streams down my friend's face. "You remember what that fucking asshole…" Victoria noticeably clenches her teeth. "... Jefferson went to jail for?"

Oh shit. Oh shit. Please, please, let it not be that. "Y-yes?"

Victoria sits still, wallowing in silence. She opens her mouth on several occasions to explain, but no sound follows. This is clearly difficult for her to say. My stomach churns like a laundry machine, and the intensity grows with each passing moment lacking words.

Finally, Victoria lifts the shroud of silence. "I just had a dream where he… did… things... to us." She moves a hand to her right ear, and I gasp as she does so. Color recedes from my face, and Victoria frowns as she notices. "You saved me _twice_."

What the fuck? How could she know about that shit? Oh god, did she have to go through that? No wonder she just lost it. I now understand why she came over. She probably feels that I'm the only one she can talk to about this. "I-i'm so sorry." My voice breaks as I utter my apology. In a sense, I'm responsible for this. I join in on the tears, muttering to myself that it's all my fault. If I hadn't have warned Victoria about Nathan, she would never have been trapped in that horrible place. If I hadn't tried to escape, Jefferson would never have found out about my powers and tortured Victoria.

Victoria shimmies over to the other side of the couch and holds me as I break down. She probably knows now that I know that exactly what she saw was true. "How could Jefferson be your fault? He did this to us, not you."

"I should have figured it out sooner. I could have stopped him."

The Queen Bee shakes her head. "Even with your powers…"

"What are you talking about?" I quickly interrupt her.

"Look, let's not pretend that I'm only having dreams. I saw your face when I touched my ear. You were there too. I know it. You suddenly appeared covered in my blood while we were in the Dark Room. I know you have a gift. What the fuck is going on with us, Max?" Victoria's eyes are pleading for an answer, something to explain this craziness.

"Umm… well… you are right," I admit. There's no point in denying anything now. "Those dreams aren't really dreams but memories. Lately, I've been going to different timelines when I go to sleep in this room. There's some sort of tear in space time in one or more of the timelines that is in this room. You just saw one timeline in which we were kidnapped by that asshole."

"Oh my god, everything actually happened! I'm so sorry you had to go through that shit, Max." Victoria holds my trembling hand.

"Well, I wasn't the one who was shot and tortured. It sucks that you had to see that crap." I give my friend a weary smile, but I can't muster any warmth behind it. This is so screwed up. No wonder Victoria has been acting so weird around me.

She returns my smile, but hers is bright and cheery like she had just heard some wonderful news. "Everything did actually happen, just not in this timeline? And you were there with me?"

I nod. How could that be a comforting thought? All that shit with Jefferson really did happen and wasn't some dream.

Victoria straddles me and quickly gives me a deep kiss, caressing my hair as she does so. After the initial shock subsidies, I struggle with pulling away. I want to, but I'm stunned by how much I enjoy it. God, this is so good. She tastes faintly of cinnamon, and I can feel the intense longing in her embrace. Part of me wants this just as badly as she does.

The sudden, intense urge to kiss her back shocks me, and I fight it off as Victoria moves from my lips to my neck. "Victoria…" I struggle to say her name as a traitorous moan escapes from my mouth. "We shouldn't... do... this…"

I begin to pull back, but I suddenly feel myself slipping away as I lose consciousness.

* * *

I awaken to find myself by the lighthouse in the middle of another storm, but this one is much more intense than the one that destroyed Arcadia Bay. The wind is so fierce that trees strain against the force, unnaturally bending over as if they are worshipping the weather. I'm forced to hold onto the bench for fear of being blown off the cliff. Torrential rain soaks me, and even though I'm wearing a coat and several layers of clothing, everything is drenched.

I look around and find myself here alone. Visibility is poor, and I can't see much in the distance. Is that a tidal wave? I can't even see the ruins of Arcadia Bay. All of this shit is happening again, and it's my fault as I saved Victoria. I guess I'm seeing what happens in that timeline.

I take out my phone with great difficulty as I have to constantly keep an arm wrapped around the bench. I need to figure out as much as possible while I'm here. I look at the lock screen and see a picture of Kate and I having tea. Kate is alive in the William timeline? Why isn't there a photo of Victoria? The date on the screen is 10/24/2013. This Friday. Two weeks from the first storm.

As I am looking at my phone, the storm breaks a bit, and I see the shoreline. A perfectly intact Arcadia Bay braces for the coming tsunami.

 **A/N:**

In the game, when Max tells Chloe that she was trapped in the Dark Room and that David saved her, Chloe is visibly upset with herself and says that she should have been there to rescue Max. I liked the idea of her getting that opportunity here. Good news for Chloe fans. She will be making more regular appearances in the story from now on. A weakness with my story structure is that I had Chloe and Max separated for a good chunk of it, and the central relationship in the game is the connection that those two have. In my defense, the game itself does do this too, though not to the degree that I have done. Chloe is largely absent for episodes one and five. I did not intend for Jefferson to be the main antagonist here, so I was satisfied with the way his arc closed. What are your thoughts?

Sorry for the delay. I was intending to post this a couple weekends ago, but my editor was busy and able to review what I wrote. I don't like publishing something without someone else looking at it as my rough drafts tend to push things a bit further than necessary. It's good that I waited as the opening scene with Joyce is much better after I got some feedback.

I am probably settling into a biweekly update schedule. I am getting distracted by other things, and I'm starting to get busy at work. I essentially write for a living (though very different than this), so it is hard to motivate myself if I've been busy writing all day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

A familiar voice desperately calls to me. "Max? You okay?"

"Max? Oh god, please wake up."

"Max!"

"Ughh…" I groggily respond as I slowly open my eyes. I'm back in my dorm room, and Victoria is holding me on the floor. Her hands run through my hair, which prevents the panic that I felt about to burst through me from taking control.

Relief comes over her as I wake up. "Oh god, Max. You totally scared the shit out of me."

"How long was I out for?"

"About a couple minutes. Not long. I was going to call for Madsen before you came back to me." Victoria beams at me. I guess she was really worried.

I sit up and try to clear my head. Another storm is coming, but I have so many questions. Why was I alone? Why did I get a vision for a storm in this timeline when I saved Victoria in a different timeline? Does the rift work that way? If the visions are connected to my powers, how did I get one when I was in a timeline without my "gift?" And the biggest question: how the hell is this Arcadia Bay still in trouble?

"Sorry, one of the many 'perks' to my powers. Visions of impending doom." I move to my bed and hold Captain.

Victoria takes her place on my couch. "Impending doom?"

I shrug. "It's a storm that will wipe out the bay in another timeline because I saved you with my powers after you were shot dead. I can prevent it by letting that version of you die, just like I did with Chloe in this timeline. I have no idea how that's affecting this timeline though."

I am lying to Victoria to protect her from the truth. No use in worrying her with it when she can't do anything to prevent it. Fortunately, she quickly drops talk of the vision.

"Wait, hold on. You had to _let_ Chloe die? What the fuck? No wonder you have been so messed up."

I deeply sigh. "Yeah, I used a photo to go back to the bathroom and prevented myself from saving her so the tornado would never appear."

I really should be more freaked out right now about this vision, but I know how to stop all of this from happening. It sucks that I will have to let someone else that's close to me die so the universe can be happy, but there's no way I'm giving up on Arcadia Bay after all that I've done to save it. Alternate Victoria will understand, and she didn't want me to save her in the first place. I just wish I didn't have to let people die when I could save them.

"Shit, that blows." An awkward pause comes between us as neither of us knows what to add. I mean, what can you say about all of this crazy shit?

Finally, the Queen Bee changes topics. "Anyway, I'm still freaked out by my Dark Room dream. Mind if I crash on your couch tonight?" Shit. Will she timeline jump if she sleeps in my room? I wish I had tested this with Warren, though on second thought, asking him to spend a night with me would have ended badly. Victoria won't jump. She doesn't have my powers. That's why I'm jumping in a room connected with the rifts. She should be fine. Besides, how the hell would I get her to leave?

"No, not at all. I also had a dream that was a bit fucked up, so I wouldn't mind the company."

"Was Kate the most popular girl at Blackwell?" Victoria playfully asks.

"I wish it was that. No, I was in the Dark Room."

Victoria drops her smirk and replaces it with a frown. "Shit. I take it that you are alright? I mean, as okay as you can be after that crap."

"Yeah, Chloe rescued me. Long story."

The Queen Bee shrugs. "Okay, well, I'm glad you are fine now, my love." She shoots me a wide smile and begins to take the couch.

What am I going to do about Victoria? I guess I should stop lying to myself and admit that I feel something for her, but I also know that I never, ever want to betray Chloe. My girlfriend means too much to me. That means I will need to find some way of telling her that we can never be. But she's so fragile right now with her world collapsing around her. I should be honest that I'm still with Chloe. But not now. She could hurt herself like Kate. I can't take that risk.

"You can take the bed. I can't sleep tonight. Not with everything that's happened to me lately. If you don't mind, I'll just stay up and play on my laptop."

Victoria smiles and takes my bed. "It will be weird being in your bed for the first time without sharing it with you, but I can deal. Please use headphones if you play some WoW. Don't want to hear those dirty orcs grunting. Everyone knows that the Alliance are the real heroes of Azeroth."

I shoot her a wounded look. "You _did not_ just say that! I don't think we can be friends now."

"Good thing we aren't just friends," Victoria winks at me. Before I can come up with an appropriate response, she saves me with a simple "good night."

I sit down and turn on the laptop. Warren must have reset it earlier as it boots up without a password prompt. I add a password of "tacos" in case other me takes over again. I turn around and check on my new roommate. She's out cold. I still need to write this crazy shit down, but without my diary, I am forced to be digital. Like my photography, I prefer to be analog, but I don't have a choice.

 _ **Sunday, October 19, 2013**_

 _I was tempted to just call this entry Monday as it is so close now, but I suppose that would be cheating. Not that I actually know anything about that._

 _This is so weird, typing when I should be writing. I can't watch the ink dry as I decide what to say next. Instead, a blinking cursor taunts my indecision. It's so impersonal. I can't even really doodle in the margins! Should I start from the beginning? Do you, my dear diary, know it all? Or have you be shorn of your memory, just like the other versions of me after I've used my powers?_

 _Where is that other version of you? I suppose it is appropriate that I've created another you, to run around in this world independently of the original who is a complete stranger to you. Are you two cut from the same cloth? How much of my former diary exists in you? Is it right that I've made you when my former diary still lives?_

 _I've got a lot to work through, it seems. I guess I'll just begin where I left off with other you. Let's see. A series of fucked up nightmares with Warren chasing me through San Francisco, me as that psycho Jeffershit, and back in the asylum where the only way out was blowing my head off. So, yeah, that was fun._

 _Then I found myself back in the Dark Room, but this time I sorta wanted to be there this time as Dark Room Max saved me from those nightmares. I had to get her out of there, away from the monster that I left her with. But Jefferson was too much for me, even with my powers. Just when I thought I was about to die, my love comes out of nowhere and saves me!_

 _Chloe can travel across timelines through the rifts. Maybe that means we can finally be together, but I'm wondering if the universe is going to try to find some way to fuck us again. It seems like we are fated to end tragically like star-crossed lovers out of a Shakespearean play. Well, you know what? Fuck that. I'm tired of fate deciding things for me. I'll make my own destiny._

 _In the meantime, I need to figure out what to do with Victoria, who is sleeping on my bed right now. No, don't get any ideas. She's just sleeping over, though other me did take advantage of her earlier. Add that situation to my list of problems. Thing is, if I'm being honest, part of me feels something for her. It's part of me that I completely loathe for being so disloyal to Chloe. I need to figure out how to tell Vic that I'm with someone else, but she's so vulnerable right now._

 _I've so got enough on my plate with this rift crap and impending doom for Arcadia Bay yet again. I'll get with Warren in the morning and figure this out._

I spent the rest of the night playing around on my laptop, trying to forget my troubles for the night. It was nice to just feel like a normal teenager for a night, just playing around on Arbus, my undead priest. I killed so much Alliance scum thanks to Victoria's remark.

* * *

Light trickles into my room as my worries slowly creep back to me just like the sun stalking the horizon. My concerns leave me every night only to inevitably return in the morning as I awaken.

I checked on my guest throughout the night for any sign that she is timeline jumping. I guess I don't really know what I'm looking for as it is not like I've ever seen myself sleeping. She looked like she slept well, never tossing around in a fit. I guess that means all is well.

She eventually awakens, and she shoots me a sleepy smile. "Hey, you."

"Hey," I wittily respond. "I need to bail on you as I have to go talk to Warren about this vision I had. Are you going to be alright?"

Victoria nods. "Yeah, thanks to you, I think I'll make it. It's still early though. I don't think nerd boy will be up for a little bit. Let's go hang in my room until he does. I would love to get your thoughts on some shots."

Seeing more of Victoria's work also sounds like fun. "Sure, let's go."

We scamper across the hall to her room, running as fast as we could to avoid someone spotting us. We both collapse on her couch in a fit of giggles suppressed into pillows. We look at her work for some time, and I make sure to give her praise. She gives me a wide smile and then pulls me into a sweet kiss. I start to return it when the door bursts open.

Warren is standing there with his arm over his face as he trying not to look at us making out on the couch. "Max, I've come to rescue you. You shouldn't be here right now."

"Shit, you perv!" Victoria yells. "Get the fuck out. Max does not need to be rescued from her girlfriend."

"Umm, I appreciate you looking out for me, Warren, but you should go. I'll meet up with you later this morning and we will get some breakfast _tacos_." I place a heavy emphasis on the last word and nod to Warren as I do so.

"Oh… OH!" Warren awkwardly says. "I'm so, so sorry. I should go." He quickly turns around to exit the room and runs into Victoria's photo wall. "Oww!" Warren takes what is left of his dignity and leaves.

"Well, where were we before that ass interrupted us?" The Queen Bee asks as she wraps herself around me, kissing my neck.

"Hey, Warren means well. He is just concerned for me after that video game out. Please don't give him a hard time."

Victoria looks up from my neck and pouts. "If there's one thing I enjoy the most by being the Queen Bee-well, I guess _former_ Queen Bee of Blackwell-is giving people who deserve it a hard time. That fucker had no right to come barging in like that. Please don't take this from me."

"Fine," Victoria says as she looks at my pleading face. "Christ, I can't believe how much you own me."

I smile at her. "I appreciate it, Victoria. It means a lot to me. I think Warren ruined the moment though, and I do need to talk to him about my vision. Mind if I bail on you now?" I hope she takes my excuse on stopping this intimacy. My feelings are so conflicted with her. I don't know if I could really stop myself it this continued. I don't know if I would _want_ to stop myself. That thought scares me. Doesn't Chloe mean more to me than that?

"Yes, I mind, very much so in fact, but I don't have a choice. As much as I want to selfishly keep you to myself all day, I know figuring out this vision thing is important. I would suggest coming with you, but I wouldn't be able to control myself around your friend." Victoria gives me a final kiss on the cheek and smiles at me. "I would say take your time, but that would be a lie. Hurry back to me."

* * *

I send Warren a text after leaving my friend (girlfriend?).

 **Max (7:27 a.m.):** sorry about that **.**

 **Warren (7:27 a.m.):** Sorry for walking in on you. Thought that it was other you.

 **Max (7:28 a.m.):** don't worry about it. Free now?

 **Warren (7:28 a.m.):** Yeah, though not sure where we can get breakfast tacos in town.

 **Max (7:28 a.m.):** wish that's all I wanted to do. need to talk. it's really important.

 **Warren (7:29 a.m.):** Let's meet at the Two Whales.

* * *

I take Chloe's truck and make my way to the diner. As I linger over her graffiti in the cab at a stop, I can't stop beating myself up for kissing Victoria back this morning. Chloe deserves someone better than me. I abandoned her when she needed me at the lighthouse. She forgave me and has been there for me ever since. She even risked her life to save me from Jefferson. Now, I just betrayed her.

And what am I doing to Victoria? I'm going to have to break up with her eventually. I shouldn't lead her on so much in the meantime. I guess I'm not being dishonest with her as I do feel something, but I know that it can't go anywhere. I should tell her, but I'm so afraid that she will hurt herself without me as her girlfriend. I can't have someone else do that when I have the power to stop it.

I finish the short trip to the diner and take my usual booth. I absent-mindedly trace my finger over the carving of a equation likely made in the table by Warren. I inwardly groan as Joyce walks over. It's not that I don't want to see her, but she's another reminder of what I did to Chloe. I still remember Joyce dying in Chloe's arms. I put those thoughts in the vault as Joyce approaches.

"Hey, Max. I haven't seen you around in a while. Everything alright?" Joyce asks in her usual motherly tone.

"I'm fine," I say as I fake a smile to back up my words. "Just been busy at school."

Joyce nods, apparently not recognizing the insincerity of my smile. "It's okay. I was just concerned is all as you had been coming around every day since…" Joyce sighs and shakes her head. "Anyway, I just wanted to say you are welcome whenever. Don't feel pressured to come over. Oh, and I will be right back with your coffee."

My smile deepens as it now reflects my mood. "Thanks, mom, but I didn't order coffee yet."

"But you were going to. And don't even try to pay for your breakfast. My daughter eats on my tab here." Joyce returns my smile and then returns to the kitchen before I can protest. I remember all the times that Joyce gave Chloe a hard time for eating at the Two Whales without paying, but I don't know if Joyce would really have it any other way. I think she was really complaining about Chloe's lack of direction in her life.

The diner door opens. Warren walks in carrying a seriousness about him that weighs him down along with his obvious fatigue from waking up so early. He's probably worried about my terse message that we need to talk. I want to panic right now knowing that a storm is headed for this reality, but I know that if I do, I won't be able to think of a way out. I'm the only one who can stop this. I owe it to the sacrifice Chloe made for this timeline to save it.

Warren joins me at the booth, casually sitting down. I miss Chloe's jump-slide. "Hey, Max. What's going on?"

I try to smile at my friend to calm his anxiety over what I'm about to say, but just like the one I wore earlier for Joyce, it lacks sincerity. "Warren, we need to figure out these rifts really soon. Like, _really really_ soon."

"H-how soon is _really_ soon?" Warren stammers, even more anxious than when he sat in the booth.

"Friday," I say nonchalantly.

"W-what's going on, Max?"

"I had a vision of Arcadia Bay, _this_ Arcadia Bay, getting destroyed by a huge storm on Friday just like a couple weeks ago. I think it's tied to me saving someone from another timeline, though I don't know why it's affecting this timeline."

Warren silently sits in the booth for a moment, lost in thought. "I have been having some strange dreams lately. They don't really feel like dreams, more like memories. I was back home after a huge storm destroyed the bay. So many people had died, and I saw that you were arrested for the murder of Chloe. None of it made sense, so even though it felt so real, I thought it must be a dream."

"That wasn't a dream," I shake my head. "Those were memories of the timeline in which I saved Victoria from being shot."

"Maybe this means the rifts are getting worse. That events in other timelines are affecting this one. Now it may just be memories that people can dismiss as strange dreams, but it sounds like it will get worse."

I was hoping that Victoria was the only one affected by the rifts, and that was only because she sleeps so close to my room. "Victoria has been having dreams of that same timeline. That's why she feels so close to me. We are dating in that one, so she has many memories of us together. After other me got close to her, I have been trapped in this pseudo-relationship with her as I can't break up with her or she might hurt herself. Things are pretty bad for her."

"So that's why you were making out with her when I walked in? I mean, you really looked into it."

It's my turn to stammer. "I-i wasn't!" That was not even remotely believable. I am going to need to come clean with Chloe the next time I see her, so I might as well get some practice in now. "Fine. You are right. I was. I don't know what would have happened had you not barged in."

Of course, Joyce picks this time to come back with two coffees. "Glad to see you getting back out there, Max. Chloe would have wanted that."

"You have the worst timing," I protest.

"As your mother, I have the _best_ timing," Joyce counters. "You shouldn't feel like you are betraying her, Max. She's gone, and you are clearly interested in this Victoria girl. I know she fancies you. I couldn't help but notice how her face lit up every time she mentioned you. You deserve to be happy, Max."

There's no arguing with her. I can't even begin to explain why she's wrong and why I did actually betray her daughter. "Thanks."

Joyce then took our breakfast orders and left.

"That was awkward," Warren adds after Joyce is out of earshot.

"So, how did you know I was even in Victoria's room? Please tell me you did not set up some surveillance camera. I made that joke on my slate, but I wasn't being serious."

My last comment confuses Warren. "You did? I would have noticed that."

"Oh, that's right. I did that during the week that never was. Nevermind. But still, are you stalking me? I didn't think we agreed to that." I'm glad that he is concerned about me, but I'm a bit uncomfortable with how he knew so quickly.

"Brooke told me you went over to Victoria's room. The walls are thin, so she can hear most everything. I asked her to keep an ear out for me because you came to me for help. You told me that you couldn't control yourself around Victoria and she was bad for you. Brooke agreed, and I ran over as quickly as I could once she let me know what was going on."

"Well, that's better than what I was fearing," I shrug. "What are we going to do, Warren? I prevented the last storm by stopping myself from saving Chloe, but what if that doesn't work?"

Warren nervously taps the table. "And… why wouldn't that work?"

"I told alternate Victoria that the decision was hers and Maxine's. Knowing Maxine, she probably destroyed the photo I would use to set this right. Even if it's still in one piece, there's no guarantee that letting Victoria die will fix this. I mean, time is pretty fucked right now. This is too important to not have a backup plan."

Again, my friend pauses to chart out our course of action. This time, however, he comes up empty. "Well, fuck, I dunno."

"That's not reassuring," I shake my head. I was hoping that Warren would have an answer just in case something went wrong with other Victoria. What the hell am I going to do?

"What I meant to say is I don't know what to do right now, but we can figure that out. We will need to conduct some experiments on the rifts to see what affects them. As the rifts are tied to your powers, it makes sense that you would be the key to getting rid of them. We just need to figure out how."

I smile. This is what I was expecting from Warren. "Okay, well, where do we begin?"

"Well, the rift is currently not visible in this timeline, and you don't have your powers here. You will need to go elsewhere to try using your powers on the rifts. You should try everything and see if anything disrupts them. It would be good if you could recruit some people to study the rifts from other timelines so we can see if what you are doing is really working."

That could work. I feel much better now that I have a plan. I'll go to bed tonight and start building a team to test the rifts. I have a week to figure this out.

Warren and I share breakfast together and then part ways.

* * *

I return to the dorms and knock on Victoria's door. No response. I shoot her a text. No response. Maybe she had to study or her parents called. They weren't happy with recent events. If that's the case, she probably just wants to be alone. I know they aren't the easiest people to deal with.

I go back to my room and lay down on my bed, wondering how I'm going to get out of this mess with Victoria.

* * *

A series of loud, furious knocks rings on my door a few hours later. I quickly open the door to find the old Victoria, full of anger and disdain for me.

"What the hell? Victoria? Are you okay?" I am at a loss to explain all of this.

"Am I _okay_? How dare you, bitch. You have some fucking nerve after what you have done to me!" The unmitigated hate behind her words was unmistakable.

What the hell did she think I did? I can't think of anything. "W-what is g-going on?"

"Don't even pretend to play dumb with me. You know _exactly_ what you did. You even decided to gloat about it in your diary and then give me the fucking thing to read. You piece of shit. I will get you back for this."

Victoria drops my diary at my feet and storms off to her room. Witnesses in the hall whisper to themselves as they behold the spectacle in front of them. I pick up the diary and read the entry that Victoria opened it to. It is written in a foreign hand though the handwriting is identical to my own.

 _Hey Victoria,_

 _Glad you have read this far. By now, you know that I have never loved you. I loved and still love Chloe above all others. She's still out there, and you mean nothing to me._

 _I bet you are wondering what the other night was all about then. Why I decided to come over and throw myself at you. Isn't it obvious? I had the power to ruin the one person who has been tormenting me since I have come back to Arcadia Bay. Oh, how I have savored these last few days with you losing your precious reputation. It was so easy to convince Courtney to make that video and post it online. You have treated her like disposable furniture. You did this to yourself._

 _So, in short, fuck you._

* * *

After Victoria left, I couldn't stop pacing in my room. I must have frayed my keep calm and carry on rug in those few hours. We both have been played so well by other me. Not only does she destroy Victoria's relationship with me, but she also managed to damage both of our reputations.

I need to go to sleep tonight, though. Arcadia Bay, _this_ Arcadia Bay, will be destroyed in less than a week unless I can figure this out. I have to try to stop myself from saving Victoria or find out how I can close these rifts. I can't stop thinking about what just happened, so I need some help to fall asleep. I take some sleeping pills from Warren, and I eventually drift into a medicated slumber.

* * *

I awaken in a strange hotel room, handcuffed to the bed and with a gag in my mouth. As I'm in a hotel room, this must be the William timeline. Where's Victoria? Surely this kinky setup due to her. I yell out, as much as I can with the gag, but I'm met by only silence.

 **A/N:**

Whew, that was a long time between updates. I needed a bit of a break as writing began to feel like a chore. I didn't want that feeling to affect the quality of my work. So, I took a break and got distracted by other video games (finally got to legend rank in hearthstone). This chapter was a bit hard to write as it is setting up the rest of the story and didn't really get to the plot points I'm excited about. It was necessary though.

So, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that there isn't much left in the story (though I suppose that could be interpreted as bad news). I'm guessing 3-4 chapters, and I know exactly how this is going to end. I've been looking forward to sharing that with you all for quite some time.

The bad news is that I am now getting really busy at work, and that will last until June. I don't think that it will take that long to write the remaining chapters, but they might be a bit delayed. Maybe a similar schedule to this chapter. I'm done providing estimates because I don't want to disappoint, but I am committed to finishing this.

Thanks again for reading. I appreciate your comments and support.


End file.
